#i drew this entire thing on one layer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whore-era · 1 year

Text

never meant to be

☁︎ ellie x fem!reader ☁︎ summary: in which you and ellie go through the heartbreaking realization that love is never fair. ☁︎ warnings/themes: cheating (ellie cheats on current gf with you), dina is your sister, heartbreak/forbidden love, not a happy ending, familial issues | fingering/thighriding (r!recieving), use of strap, fem anatomy ☁︎ a/n: hi. don't hate me lol. sometimes i write stories like this to feel a little something. also it's 2:30 am and i have to be in class by 7:00am so this is not proofread lol. there will be NO part two. ☁︎ word count: 9,800 words aka my longest fic yet

for as long as you could remember, you were always in dina's shadow.

despite you being the youngest daughter, dina was your parent's pride and joy. she was the smartest and prettiest daughter, who never failed to win the family's attention.

dina was the 'perfect' daughter in your parent's eyes. she followed in mom's footsteps and won prom queen 3 years in a row and was crowned 1st place as miss wyoming since she was 14 in the annual pageant every year. last year, she got accepted to yale university with the intention of going to law school and becoming a criminal lawyer just like father.

your parents were set on having two extremely intelligent daughters who attended ivy league colleges and strived for an above-average career like an award-winning surgeon or a ground-breaking research scientist.

but that wasn't you. at all.

from a young age, you were always attracted to art — such as sculptures, paintings, murals, and various types of music. you had a keen eye for things more abstract, which always set you apart from your own family.

sure, math and science were subjects that came easily to you, and you had no difficulty with keeping straight A's at school, but you always knew you wanted to do something different than what was set for you.

despite being the black sheep of the family, you did find yourself envying dina. she had the bigger room, nicer clothes, a car, and always got money whenever she asked mom and dad for it. it was hard not to be jealous.

especially since she started bringing ellie williams around.

dina met ellie during her freshman year at yale, and the two hit it off. they officially became a couple this summer, and with the approval of our parents, ellie followed dina back home and agreed to stay the entire summer with her and the family.

from the first moment you met ellie, you were smitten.

it was the first week of summer, and you were relishing in all the much-needed vacation time, knowing by the time summer was over, you would be on your way to los angeles for college.

you were relaxing in bed with your copy of 'pride & prejudice', reading it for probably the 70th time. from your bedroom, you can hear a car pulling up in the driveway followed by your mother's loud voice yelling "welcome home!!", and then slamming car doors. getting up from your comfortable position, you drew the linen curtains to the side and took a peek out your window, down at the driveway.

from above, you could see mother taking dina in her arms, giving her a hug and placing a kiss on her forehead.

your eyes drift to father, and to the girl he was shaking hands with.

she was unlike anyone you've ever seen. her short brunette hair was cut short, hanging right at her neck in the style of a mullet. her slender arms revealed one tattoo on her right forearm that was visible underneath the folded flannel layered over a plain white t-shirt.

she held this charming aura about her, evident by how your father let out a hearty laugh as he gently nudged her on the shoulder. this woman must've been impressive because it was a rarity to see your father laugh, let alone when first meeting someone.

as dina grabbed the girl's hand to drag her inside the house, her eyes flickered up toward you, lingering on you for a little too long.

"so, ellie, tell us. what are you studying at yale?" your father's deep voice resonated throughout the dinner table.

"ugh, daaaad, please. no more interrogating my girlfriend," dina groaned out, "you're gonna scare her away, and we've only been together a month!"

"i was just asking a question, sweetie. no need to fret," your dad interjected as he took another bite of chicken.

ellie cleared her throat before putting her fork down, "uh, i'm actually in a computer science program— i'm in the works of developing my own software."

father's eyes widened, "wow! how impressive! what kind of software is it?"

"it's actually a type of software used by government agencies to store highly classified government documents, sir," ellie added, "it keeps unverified users locked out of the servers so they don't access the documents unless they recognize the IP address, and the software reports any unknown addresses back towards us to be monitored for criminal activity."

your ears would usually tune out the boring conversations held at the dinner table, but you couldn't help but be completely absorbed in everything ellie was saying and it only left you wanting to know more.

"how exciting! glad dina found someone who's doing something significant with their life," your father complimented, "unlike our youngest."

"such a shame. you graduated top of the class this year, yet you want to attend art school." your father's eyes bore into the side of your face as you pretended not to notice his words, distracting yourself by poking at the cold piece of broccoli on the expensive china plate.

"art school is cool too," ellie complimented, "what are you majoring in?"

you picked your head up, surprised by ellie's sudden interest in your studies. you were used to everyone else asking about dina and talking about dina and would compare you to dina. it was exhausting.

"um— fine arts. i'm also minoring in graphic design," you managed to squeak out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

"and what are you planning to do with that, young lady?" your dad prodded in his signature stern voice, "you're 18 years old, almost 19, you have to start thinking about your future seriously."

you take the glass of water, and take a sip from it, suppressing that urge to cry from his words, "okay, father."

your mother places a hand on your dad's shoulder, attempting to calm him down, "honey, not at the dinner table."

he doesn't say anything else, and continues eating his dinner, whereas you lost your appetite a long time ago, and are no longer feeling in the mood to be around your family for another second.

the fork falls from your hands, creating a clinging sound against the ceramic dish. "may i be excused?" you tremble, ignoring the burning gaze from the brunette's eyes. you couldn't put into words the humiliation you felt at this moment, and you couldn't bear to look at dina's mocking smirk or at ellie's pitiful stare.

"okay, sweetie. goodnight." your mother murmured. you got up from the chair, and scurried out of the dining room, wanting nothing more but to curl up under your covers and lay in dark silence.

as you ascend up the stairs, you can hear dina continuing the conversation as if nothing ever happened, laughter and jokes ensuing in your absence.

the past two weeks with ellie in the house was an adjustment you had to get used to.

there have been a few occasions where you'd forget to lock the bathroom door, and bam, ellie barges in. luckily, she was a gentlewoman and always covered her eyes even though you were fully clothed. but it was extremely awkward, to say the least.

one morning, you thought the house was empty and took the opportunity to blast your favorite pussycat dolls song and belt out the chorus while shaking your hips around in the living room, only to find ellie looking down at you from the top of the stairs with an amused expression on her face.

needless to say, you put an end to your one-woman concerts and kept them in the privacy of your bedroom.

it was currently 2:45am, and you just wrapped up a painting you started this morning. the house was still and silent, and no one else but you were awake during this time of night.

feeling the gurgle and rumble of your belly, you take off your headphones and tiptoe down the stairs. with your socked feet pitter-pattering on the cold tile of the kitchen, you opened the door to the fridge and scanned the shelves for a tasty late-night snack.

"hmmm...." you hummed, "strawberries and cream might do the trick." you pulled out the bowl of strawberries and a tub of cool whip, and sat down on the tile, opening the lid, and dipping the berry in the creamy topping.

you were about 5 berries deep before you heard a voice clearing their throat, causing you to jump in your spot.

"isn't it a little too late to be eating dessert?" ellie queries. she was in a grey hoodie and plain grey sweatpants with half of her hair tied up. it was evident she probably just woke up, and a part of you felt a little guilty that you possibly were the reason for that.

unable to speak with a mouthful of fruit, you slowly shake your head left and right, eliciting a chuckle from the brunette.

"alright, no judgment here." ellie puts her hands up, "can i join you?"

swallowing the lump of red fruit down your throat, you respond, "sorry, yeah. of course," you hold up the bowl of berries, "want some?"

the girl crouches down and sits next to you on the floor, grabbing a strawberry and dipping it in the cool whip, then taking it all in one bite.

she chews momentarily before shaking her head in satisfaction, "not bad, not bad. never tried this combination before."

"really? i've had this snack for years, ever since i was a little girl," you smile, "it was my dad's favorite snack growing up..."

your voice trailed off as you reminisced about the earlier years when life was easier and you didn't have the pressure of worrying about college or career aspirations. all you and dina worried about was grilled cheeses and finding your bratz doll's missing feet.

ellie spoke again, "were you close with your dad growing up?"

you bit your lip, the sweet taste of strawberry and whipped cream present upon the skin, "yeah. we were," you laughed dryly, "we used to watch those cheesy law and order SVU shows all the time."

"yeah?"

"mhm," you hummed, "they were always entertaining to me. he thought that it'd eventually influence me to become a lawyer like him. he always said that we'd become the dynamic duo or whatever and that we'd kick ass in court."

ellie sat intently, watching you, listening to you as you told her this memory. from the moment she first met you when she got here, she knew you were quite the opposite of dina. dina was type A. she was occasionally uptight, a bit boring, and not really fit for ellie. ellie was chill and was a 'go by the flow' person, which was one thing dina hated about her. don't get her wrong, ellie liked dina, and she liked how dina was funny and smart, but she didn't really see them lasting long-term.

it was shitty. it was shitty how ellie didn't see herself being with dina for that long, and it was worse that ellie didn't have the guts to tell her.

but, for her own selfish reasons, ellie didn't want to tell dina, not yet anyways. she gravitated toward you and often found herself staring at you for a little too long during meals at the table and thinking about what you were doing in the next room over while dina was cuddled up in her arms.

ellie knew this was a bad idea. she could not get attached to her girlfriend's sister. it was nothing but a recipe for disaster.

but ellie was only human. she couldn't help her ever growing curiosity.

"you didn't want to be a lawyer?" ellie asked.

you shook your head, "hell, no. looks stressful and boringgggg," you sang out.

ellie laughed, "yeah, can't disagree with you there. dina tells me it involves lots of reading."

"yea, i'm good." you giggle, "what about you? have you always known that you wanted to work with computers 'n stuff?"

"i guess. i was always a 'nerd' and all that bullshit. loved watching sci-fi movies and shows and i'm also a huge gamer so—" ellie began, "i can't imagine myself not doing anything else other than techie shit."

you nod, putting another cream-covered berry in your mouth, "that makes sense. at least you're passionate about what you do."

"yeah, i guess," ellie snacks on another strawberry, "how 'bout you? you're an artist?"

you cover your mouth to muffle a laugh, "i wouldn't call myself an artist. but i do love painting. it's all i ever want to do."

"then it wouldn't be too much if i could ask to see some of your art."

your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on the fruity snack. "what?" your voice almost comes out sounding shocked.

"yeah, i mean, i'd love to see some of your stuff," ellie looked toward you with a sly smile.

"um, no," you laugh, "my parents haven't even seen some of my work."

you were hesitant to show anyone any of your artwork, and only allowing your best pieces to be kept in the security of your personal portfolio, only to be viewed by colleges for applications and such.

"aww, c'mon. i wanna see."

you huff, "maybe."

ellie smirked, "i'll take what i can get," she continues, "besides, think of me as....an art critic."

you let out a giggle, "oh yeah?"

the night progresses and you and ellie get lost in conversation, talking until 4am about life and whatnot. ellie was an easygoing person to talk to. she never seemed to judge you for any of your own opinions, and it felt like she was actually interested in what you had to say. it felt like you've known her for years, even though it's only been a matter of weeks.

you could already see the rays of orange peeking up from the navy, blue sky. it was already early morning.

"we should probably head back upstairs," you suggest, nodding your head towards the window, "the sun's gonna rise....and dina'll wake up soon."

it was like clockwork. dina woke up every morning at 6:30 am, never earlier nor later. you definitely did not want her to catch you and ellie here, alone and together.

for a moment, ellie forgot that she was here with dina. it was fucking terrible and she felt guilty, but she really liked spending the night talking with you and she knew she needed to do it again.

"uh— no, yeah, of course," ellie stood up first, holding out a hand to help you up next.

you took her warm hand in yours and hoisted yourself up until you were stable on your feet.

"thanks," you murmur.

"yeah, no problem."

ellie didn't pull her hand away, and neither did you. it was like your hands were two pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly in the spaces of each other's fingers.

realizing what was happening, you quickly pulled your hand away from hers, "uh—"

"fuck, sorry," ellie stammered, "i'm getting— um— awfully tired."

good excuse, ellie thought to herself.

"it's fine, no worries. let's head upstairs," you lead the way up toward the stairs with ellie alongside you. you stop in front of your bedroom door and ellie stops in front of dina's, her hand lingering on the doorknob.

"yeah?"

"um— just wanted to say goodnight, ellie." you smile at her, and she returns the favor.

"goodnight." ellie whispers, and you both head inside.

with dina still fast asleep, ellie crawls into bed next to her. she pulls the blanket close to her body, and turning away from her sleeping girlfriend, a small smile makes its way across her face as her mind drifts to you and how you were just a few feet away, a wall being the only thing separating you both.

and as you crawl into the comfort of your own bed, you couldn't help the wide smile that curls upon your lips as you thought about ellie, and how badly you wanted to talk to her again, ignoring the fact that she was probably laid up against your sister's body, holding her close.

it was an unfortunate thing — the slow formation of the connection between two people who were right for each other but were bound by the fate of knowing deep inside the chance of them being together was just not a possibility.

ellie could not get herself to fall asleep. she's been here for weeks, yet found herself tossing or turning in bed, never sleeping soundly for more than 3 hours at a time.

it happened again tonight. she fell asleep at 11:00pm, and here she was, wide awake at 3:00am.

she never knew how dina could do it— how she could make her body sleep at the same time, and stay asleep until morning.

ellie blamed it on the idea that her body wasn't adjusted to being at dina's house with her family. she thought that spending her summer vacation with dina's family would be fun and that it would be a good getaway from all the stress at school.

but ellie fucking hated your dad. from the first night she met him, she hated how he talked down to you. he was an asshole. it was obvious to ellie that he favored dina, and she knew it was only because she was following the same career path he was on. ellie didn't agree with how he felt about you at all, and desperately wished she could say something to him, but she thought it'd be best to not interfere...for now.

sighing, ellie took the covers off and quietly walked towards the door, slowly opening it and gently closing it.

she didn't know what the hell compelled her to walk over to your bedroom door, but before she had any time to even consider her actions, her fist planted three soft knocks on the surface.

ellie thought you must've been fast asleep by now, but a small part of her hoped that you would still be awake.

you swung your bedroom door open, unsure who would be knocking on your door at this hour, but was relieved to see it was ellie, "oh, hey."

ellie's eyes trailed up and down your body, taking you in and letting her eyes rake over the way your sleep shirt hangs loosely off your shoulder and how your cotton shorts stop mid-thigh.

she had to force her eyes back up on your face, and she was beating herself up for even letting her look at you that way, like a piece of meat.

"uh- er- sorry, i was just—" ellie stuttered, "i couldn't sleep."

you nod slowly, and step aside to let her inside your room.

god, this was such a bad idea.

after letting her inside, you close the door and lock it. walking back over towards your bed, you plop down on the mattress as ellie awkwardly stands in the middle of your room.

"you can sit down, you know," you giggle, and ellie shrugs and chooses to sit on your swiveling desk chair.

silence fills the air for a moment before ellie speaks up first.

"were you busy?"

you shake your head, "nope, was just reading a book."

"ahh, okay," ellie was silent for a moment before speaking again, "sorry again, for uh— bothering you."

"you didn't bother me," you laugh, "i'm usually up around this time anyways, jus' doing whatever."

ellie nods and turns the chair to face your desk where she sees your black leather sketchbook. her fingers open the book to a random page, and it was a sketch of a cat napping on a window sill in incredible detail.

the sound of pages flipping caught your attention, and you immediately jump to your feet as the realization hits you.

"hey! my sketchbook!" your hands quickly try to snatch the book from her hands, but ellie was faster, and got up and held the black book up and out of your reach. to your loss, ellie had the advantage of being a couple inches taller than you were, which made it extremely difficult for you to get to your book.

"these are amazing! let me just look through them a little bit longer—" ellie says, flipping through the pages of all the sketches you made, "holy shit— is that— is that me?"

your eyes grow wider, and you could feel the sweat seeping out of your pores, "give that back!"

you jump and try to grab the book, but ellie has this annoying smirk on her face as she holds the book high above her head, knowing you wouldn't be able to grab ahold of it due to your shorter stature.

"ugh, seriously?" you whine, flushing red in embarrassment, feeling like she just read an extremely personal section of your diary. in a way, your sketchbook was your diary.

"let me take a picture of my sketch and i'll give it back to you, deal?" ellie attempted to negotiate with you, but you narrowed your eyes at her, really not wanting her to have any evidence of your sketch at all. but she doesn't seem like the type to take no for an answer.

luckily, you were quite the trickster yourself. it's a youngest child thing.

you huff, "fine."

ellie smiles with pride, and as she lowers her arm to put the sketchbook down, you act fast and seize the book. but before you succeed, ellie snatches it back, and suddenly she's falling back onto your bed. you fail to steady yourself, following suit and landing on top of her, your forehead thumping against hers.

"ouch."

both of your eyes meet, and for a second, everything stands still. you and ellie don't move, afraid that whatever happens next, it'll end up with you both in a compromising situation.

"i— uh—" you sputter, "sorry." you quickly scramble up to your feet, getting off of her, and standing back to create some distance.

the absence of your body made ellie feel cold, but she pushed that feeling to the side and stood on her own two feet, handing you your sketchbook.

"thanks," you take the book from her hands and stuff it in the top left drawer of your dresser, where it usually is anyways.

"you know, those were really good," ellie mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "especially the one of me."

heat rises to your face once again, "it was from the day i saw you in the driveway— when you first got here with dina."

she nods, "i can tell, 's really good though. i swear."

you blush, "thanks," you think of something quick to change the subject, wanting to stray away from your sketch of her, still reeling in the embarrassment of her finding out.

"wanna watch the office?"

4:58am

you know what? imitation is the most sincere form of flattery, so i thank you.

"god, i love dwight so much, dude," ellie laughs, throwing a chip in her mouth as she watches jim's character pull out the bobblehead and place it on his desk.

identity theft is not a joke, jim! millions of families suffer every year!

michael!

oh that's funny— michael!

you let out a sleepy giggle, cuddling your pillow. you and ellie had been on your bed with the show playing on your laptop for an hour already, while she munched away on a bag of chips you had in your room.

ellie turned her head to check on you, and she could tell by your heavy eyelids that you were about to knock out in any second, "you sleepy?"

"mhm," you manage to hum out.

she smiles, in awe at your cute, sleepy state.

"go 'head and sleep. i'll finish up this episode and let myself out when it's over," ellie murmurs. she unfolds the blanket that was sitting at the edge of your bed and places it over your body.

"you sure?" you ask, nearly half asleep.

"mhm. i'll be gone by the time you wake up." but you knew you didn't want ellie to be gone when you woke up and ellie didn't want to go either.

as the show continues to run, you close your eyes and fall into slumber.

you weren't sure what woke you up, but you did. you hear the sound of 'the office' theme song playing, causing you to stir slightly, but you were surprised by the pressure present around your waist.

you sit up a bit, and you see ellie fast asleep, with her arm wrapped tightly around your waist, spooning you.

you look at the clock next to your bed and read the time: 6:23 am.

the air is sucked out from your lungs. dina is gonna be up soon.

"ellie! wake up!" you whisper quite loudly in her ear, shaking her awake. she doesn't wake up, and just groans, pulling you back to hold you again.

ignoring the butterflies going rampant in your belly, you attempt to wake her up again, "ellie! please, wake up," you shake her arm, "dina's gonna wake up in any minute."

ellie's green eyes open, and for a moment she's glad it's your face she sees when she wakes up, until the realization dawns on her.

"shit, shit, shit," ellie curses, getting off your bed and standing up, "i have to go."

and she exits your bedroom, leaving you alone in your bed only with the memory of waking up in her arms.

as ellie slowly and quietly enters dina's bedroom, she's relieved by the sight of dina's body still fast asleep. she gets back in bed and turns away from her, trying to calm her fast heart rate down.

on cue, dina's alarm clock goes off at 6:30 am sharp. ellie can feel dina turning and shutting off her alarm clock, and then she scootches closer and wraps her arms around ellie's body, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"morning, babe," dina whispers, and ellie shuts her eyes, pretending she's still asleep.

ellie lets out a mumbled 'morning' sounding groan and nestles her face into the pillow. she feels dina get up from bed and head into the bathroom to begin her morning routine, leaving ellie alone, wishing she had you wrapped up in her arms instead.

two days had gone by and you barely talked to ellie, sharing nothing but longing glances and brushes of fingers when you handed her a plate during meal times.

you didn't purposely intend to avoid ellie, but your mother had filled your agenda with errands for your 19th birthday party this weekend. you had to go talk to the caterers, talk to the florist, get fitted for a dress, buy new shoes, send out invitations— it was all so tedious and tiring, but you didn't want to make your mother upset by disappointing her.

the contractors were currently setting up the house with decorations and such for the party, and ellie was outside in the backyard with father, helping the rest of the workers set up a stage and other things needed.

you hated hot days, especially ones like these, where the air was scorching and dry. but you couldn't complain today, ellie was in a tight, white tank top showing off her muscular biceps and arms. you couldn't help but stare a little longer, trailing your eyes over the beads of sweat that would roll down her neck.

thank god for hot days like this one.

"honey, will you please do me a favor and bring out this tray of refreshments to everyone outside please?" your mother handed you a tray of cold drinks and fresh fruit.

"of course," you smooth out your sundress and take the tray from her hands, walking out of the kitchen and through the open doors leading to the backyard patio.

you walk over toward where they were working and set down the tray, "here are some cold drinks everyone."

your father and the workers mutter a quick thank you and take the offerings, sipping on the chilled drinks and talking amongst themselves.

however, what ellie needed wasn't a cold refreshment or a fruity snack. in fact, the only thing she could think of that would help ellie in this heat right now was you.

she couldn't tear her eyes away from the way your tits looked, the way the fabric hugged the soft, pillowy flesh. she definitely couldn't look away when you walked back towards the house, only wishing she can run her hands over the smooth skin of your thighs, grabbing on your ass.

the way you made ellie sweat was incomparable to the sun's radiating heat.

"excuse me, i'm gonna use the bathroom," ellie muttered, making her way back inside the house.

as you neared the kitchen, you overhear your mother's conversation with dina.

"yeah, we'll be leaving a little early. i have stuff to do back on campus," dina's voice remarks.

"oh, that's too bad. i really like having you both here," your mother pouts, "when are you and ellie leaving?"

"the day after the party," dina replies, "it'll give us time to rest and pack up."

your heart sank in your chest. ellie was leaving? and so soon?

you ran back inside the house, jogging up the stairs, not wanting dina or your mother to see the tears watering in your eyes.

"sweetie? you okay?" your mother yells out from the kitchen.

"uh, yeah! just need to get something from my room!"

you make a bee-line to the bathroom and shut the door behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror, and letting yourself break down in tears.

something like this was bound to happen. you knew ellie wouldn't stay here forever, and you would be leaving for college. but why did this hurt so bad?

you hear the bathroom door open, and you quickly wipe your eyes.

"e-ellie?"

the brunette was surprised to see you in the bathroom at first, knowing you did have a habit of leaving the door unlocked sometimes, but that all went away and concern washed over her as she noticed your tear-filled eyes and red, stuffy nose.

"hey, hey, hey," she whispers as she takes a few steps toward you, "what's wrong?"

you blink a couple times, a tear falling down your cheek. you hesitated to answer her question.

"you know you can tell me anything, right?" ellie coos, her hands soothingly rubbing up and down your arms.

you nod, and bite your lip, thinking of how to word your response correctly, "d-dina said you both were leaving after my b-birthday."

ellie softens and an evident look of disappointment appears on her face, "yeah, we are."

you wipe your nose, looking up at her with glossy eyes, "it feels like you just got here and— and—" you sniffle, "you're leaving already."

ellie's heart soars understanding that you were upset because she was leaving. "i know and i'm sorry," she snakes her arms around your waist, pulling you close to her, "i wish i met you sooner."

ellie wished she met you first, she would actually have a chance at giving you both a shot without the guilt of betraying dina.

you bury your face into her shirt, the scent of her perfume wafting in your nostrils. god, there was just so much to do and so little time.

you pull your head back to get a good look at her face, to memorize her features, and sear them into your brain.

your eyes fell to her lips, and before you could even form a single thought, you leaned forward and pressed your lips against hers.

ellie instinctively pulled you closer by your waist, kissing back, moving her lips slowly with yours.

you slowly try to pull away from her lips, but she brings you back in for more, her grip on your waist never releasing.

"ellie," you breathe out, but it comes out sounding more like a moan, "w-we can't," you whine, "d-dina's here."

fuck. she stops, and pulls away from your lips, leaning her forehead against yours for a brief moment.

ellie plants a small kiss on your forehead, before letting you go and exiting the bathroom, leaving you alone once again.

"happy birthday, dear," the lady greets, leaning to give you a kiss on your cheekbone, "19 is such a fun age, don't take advantage of it, alright, hun?"

"sure," you hum, smiling back as the lady retreats back to the party, getting lost in the sea of people.

you had no idea who she was. actually, you didn't know a lot of the people here. a bunch of them were your father's associates from the law firm, some of your mom's book club members, and dina's friends from high school.

it was your birthday party, but your parents never turned down the idea of hosting a celebration if it was an excuse to mingle and network.

you head upstairs toward the balcony and step outside to the cool, summer night, leaning against the railing. you took a deep breath in, briefly closing your eyes in an attempt to gather your thoughts and clear your head.

"not enjoying the party?"

the sound of the voice causes you to spin in your spot, and you're met with ellie standing at the doorway. she was dressed in a white, collared dress shirt that was slightly unbuttoned at the top, with black slacks. her hair was down, in her signature mullet. you could tell she'd been drinking, as her eyes appeared dazed and she seemed more relaxed.

"uh— it was getting hot and stuffy in there," you tore your eyes away from her, "i just needed some air."

ellie sauntered over, standing next to you and placing her arms against the rail. her eyes raked over your body, drinking in how absolutely gorgeous you looked in your dress.

"you look beautiful tonight."

heat rose to your cheeks, and luckily the blush you wore today camouflaged the deepening crimson fading on your cheeks, "thanks."

"you always look beautiful, but you know, it's your birthday tonight and i had to remind you."

it was possible that ellie's words just fell from her lips because she was slightly inebriated, but it was true. ellie thought you were the most beautiful thing this earth could offer. you were the closest thing to heaven on earth.

but ellie couldn't have you, and without you, she was in her own personal hell.

you cleared your throat, attempting to wave off the tension in the air, "are you enjoying the party?"

she shrugged, "yeah, it's okay. i mean— dina's been introducing me to all your dad's friends and shit, trying to show me off like some kind of fuckin' trophy or something." she lets out a harsh laugh, "have you met my girlfriend ellie? she's a computer science engineer at yale! she's already done work for google and apple! isn't that so cool?"

ellie mocks dina's voice, and you can tell she has this slight bitterness to her. but you couldn't blame her for how she felt, dina only cared about the superficial things.

"oh...i'm sorry," you turn your head to face the view, "she's always been like that. trying to compete with everyone else and prove that she's better."

"yeah, i fucking hate that."

silence falls between you two again, and the elephant in the room couldn't be more obvious. it's been two days since the kiss in the bathroom occurred, and neither of you had even acknowledged it since then.

ellie would occasionally find herself thinking about the way your lips molded onto hers, and how she'd risk her relationship with dina just to experience it one more time. hell, she'd break up with dina.

it was hard for you to think about ellie without having the guilt bubble in your belly. you couldn't get ellie out of your head at all, and frequently spent those late nights fantasizing what it'd be like to be in dina's position, as ellie's girlfriend.

but, those feelings of shame always came to the surface and you tried to suppress them, pushing them into the dark corners of your mind, but as the day's progressed, it got harder and harder to do.

even being next to ellie made your body feel like it was on fire, and the urge to kiss her again was coming full throttle. you had to leave before you did something you both would regret.

"umm, i'll see you down there," you quickly sputter out before turning your heel to leave, but you felt ellie's hand grip your arm, stopping you.

"wait."

you force yourself to look at ellie, and your eyes connect with hers. your heart rate picked up, and suddenly the oxygen left your lungs. it was insane how one person could make you feel like this— like you could die if you were to let go.

"i—" ellie was about to let her heart speak for herself, and she was going to tell you everything. she was going to put her heart on the line and risk everything, for you."

"ellie! elllieee! where are yo— oh! there you are!" dina appeared at the doorway, a wide smile on her face as she finally found ellie. "where were you? i have to introduce you to this guy who works for this video game company! come on!"

before ellie can say anything, dina grabs her arm and drags ellie away.

the party happened and ended. you blew out your candles and cut the cake, and soon enough all the people left by midnight. dina was fast asleep on the couch in the living room downstairs, as the expensive, bubbly champagne had officially defeated your older sister.

your parents were asleep. dina was asleep. the only two people awake in the house was you and ellie, a deadly combination.

ellie was in the next room, intoxicated, and thinking about what her next moves were. she was leaving tomorrow and she knew that soon enough that you would be leaving for los angeles too, for college.

the thought of you possibly meeting someone new during college made her skin burn. ellie wanted to be that person for you, to be the one who made you laugh, to be the one who you called at the end of the day to tell her all about what happened in class, to be the one who gave you butterflies and made your heart flip.

fuck it, ellie thought, and the next thing she knew she was walking to your room and knocking on your door.

you swung the door open, and ellie swore she could've died and gone right to heaven. you were still in your birthday dress, but your hair was down, and you just looked like the most beautiful thing she'd seen in a long time. it was impossible that you were a real person.

"....ellie?" you spoke softly, and the sound of your voice knocked her out of her thoughts.

"huh? yeah— uh— fuck. sorry," ellie stammered, "can— can i come in?"

"sure."

you could smell the mixture of whiskey and her sandalwood perfume radiating off her body, and it was an addicting combination. you just wanted to bury your face in her neck and sniff her, as creepy as that did sound.

you sit down on the edge of your bed, crossing your legs, and ellie leans against your wall, with her hands stuffed in the pockets of her black slacks. she was still in her outfit, but the top of the buttons of her shirt were opened much wider, revealing a bit of skin.

silence falls in the room, and there was tension in the room. the room was beginning to feel humid and hot, and a small bead of sweat rolled down your temple.

ellie's eyes raked over you in your little dress, and how the dress bunches up just enough for her to get a peek of the sweet skin of your inner thighs, a paradise she's been dreaming of.

she wasn't sure if it was the little bit of alcohol still left in her system, but she could feel that familiar heat bubble in her core, making her feel even hotter.

"so, i was thinking, and i realized that i didn't say 'happy birthday' to you," ellie spoke softly, "i didn't even get you a gift."

your eyes widen, and you let out a small laugh, "it's fine, don't worry about it."

"nah, you've been so good to me, and— i mean— the least i could do is buy you something or take you out for dinner when me and dina come back for winter break."

your smile falters. when me and dina come back. the words echo throughout your head. me and dina. come back.

shaking your head, you try your best to respond without choking up, "i-it's okay..."

"what? don't be ridiculous-"

you cut her off, "it's f-fine, ellie," you breathe out, "i'm gonna head to bed now."

a pang hits ellie in the chest, and a look of hurt washes over her. "w-what? but i-"

you couldn't contain the jealousy that simmered in your belly, and it was partly due to the specialty cocktails you had tonight. you just had to have a midori sour.

"you and dina have to leave early tomorrow," you spat, with venom dripping off every word. it was enough to be noticed by ellie, and she received your message.

ellie doesn't say anything and her mind whirls in search of the words she wants to say.

after a few seemingly long minutes, she speaks up, "i think i'm gonna break up with dina."

your head snaps in her direction, your expression in utter disbelief, "what?"

ellie nods, "yeah."

"but, why?" you ask, "dina loves you and my family loves you—"

"dina is not who i want to be with."

you freeze, and your heart skips a beat.

"who do you want to be with?" you had an idea of who, but you played dumb, eager to hear her say the words.

"you."

time stops, and suddenly, everything feels like it's frozen in time, and the only two things that were present were you and ellie. for a moment, you let yourself imagine how things would be if she did break up with dina and went with you instead. of course, you would be over the moon being ellie's girlfriend, but at what cost?

dina would surely hate you if she already didn't and she'd make your life a living hell. and your parents? your dad would think you were a bigger disappointment, especially for ruining his perfect daughter's relationship.

you and ellie would face ultimate backlash, and wouldn't be on the receiving end of support from those close to you.

it pained you to think about it, but you had to be realistic.

"ellie......" you whispered, your voice coming out slightly strained, "i don't think we could be together."

ellie shakes her head, "we can. i'll break up with dina and— and— we'll have a long distance relationship and we'll come back—"

"and we'll be here? together? in front of dina and my parents?" you cut her off, hurt evident in your voice.

her demeanor faltered, and she was quiet for a moment. ellie understood your point of view, and how it'd be difficult to continue a relationship with her ex-girlfriend's sister.

"just stay with her."

ellie sighed, "no, even if we can't be together, there's no way i'm going to stay with her. no fucking way."

"but—"

"no. i don't want to be with her," ellie comes closer to where you were, causing you to stand on your feet and back up, "everyone is talking about how everyone else would feel. what about me? i can't fucking stand not being with you. you think i enjoy thinking about you while i lay with dina? do you even understand how hard it is for me to just look at you? do you know what you do to me?"

you feel the cool surface of the wall press on your skin as you were backed up against the wall. she had you cornered and you couldn't do anything about it, and a small part of you enjoyed this.

ellie's voice is low and raspy, "do you have any idea how much i think about you? having you as mine? thinking about the things i would do to you?"

you swallow hard, and you shake your head left to right, "ellie, you're just d-drunk."

she shakes her again, "i'm not. i'm one hundred percent sober."

"you're talking nonsense—" you try to convince her, but deep down inside, this was you trying to convince yourself.

"why can't you just face the fact that i want you?"

"because you're dating my sister!" the tone of your voice shocks the brunette.

"i can't— i can't have these feelings for you," you breathe out, "you're with dina."

ellie closes her eyes at the mention of her name, and again, silence fills the space.

"then let's forget about her, okay? for one night, i just want to forget about her," ellie whispers, "all i wanna focus on is you."

you search her face, and you bite your lip, actually contemplating the idea.

as you and ellie make eye contact, it was then you realize how close she was to you, you can nearly taste her lips if you leaned in further enough.

and in a swift move, ellie presses her lips against yours, pushing you against the wall. her hands cup your cheeks, kissing you with a sense of urgency and passion.

she takes control, and pushes her tongue in between your lips, roaming around in your mouth, eliciting a mewl from the back of your throat.

ellie's hands move to the back of your neck, and wrapped up in each other's lips, you both continue your way over to your bed, falling onto the mattress.

you pull away for a brief moment to flip her over, straddling her and sitting on her thighs.

ellie bunches your dress around your hips, fully exposing your thighs for her enjoyment. her cold hands send a shudder up your spine as they make their way to your thighs, "so fucking gorgeous."

ellie whispers, and she reconnects her lips against yours, and you couldn't help but grind your core against her, eager for friction as you feel a pool of wetness gather in your panties.

you let out a small whimper against her lips, and ellie grows more greedy, and slides her tongue inside your mouth again. the burning heat forming in your core begins to be harder to control, and you couldn't help but grind your pussy harder against her again.

the brunette smiles against your lips, and she takes hold of your hips, guiding you and placing you securely on her right thigh, "there, baby. grind that pretty fuckin' pussy on my thigh."

desperate for more, you place your arms around her neck for security and begin rubbing your panty-covered pussy against her pants, the fabric providing some friction on your swollen clit.

you couldn't suppress the soft whimpers that leave your lips, and ellie presses her lips against yours, drinking in every single moan that reverberates through your throat. she has you right where she wants you, wet and desperate for her.

"ellie.." your parted lips whine, "want more."

your pleas come out sounding as pathetic moans, and she smirks at the sight of you, eager for more.

"yeah? you want more, baby?" you nod frantically.

the brunette flips you over, takes you off her thigh and lays you on your back. using her knee to part your thighs, her fingers slowly trail down your inner thighs, and she uses her index finger to slide your panties to the side, sliding her finger down the wet slit of your pussy.

"shit," she curses, "so wet for me."

your hips buck up, craving more and more of her touch against your sensitive cunt, "ellie, please."

smirking, ellie pulls down your panties, the damp fabric pooling at your ankles, and she uses two fingers to spread your lips, the wet skin creating a slick-sounding echo throughout the room.

she uses one finger to rub your soaked, swollen clit, drenching her finger with your wetness.

"hmmph," you whimper, gripping her arm tight. ellie takes your lips in hers, muffling your pleading moans with her mouth as her fingers rub agonizing slow circles on your pussy.

she briefly pulls away from your lips, breathing heavily, "god, you're so beautiful when you moan."

ellie continues the circles against your clit, and you grab her wrist, stopping her, "e-ellie, please, i-i want more.."

the brunette pauses and thinks for a moment, "alright, baby, give me a second and wait here."

ellie places a kiss on your forehead, pulling her fingers out of you and quickly hurrying out of your bedroom. seconds later, you hear your door open and you see her come back in with a black strap and a harness.

"do you use that with—"

ellie cuts you off, "no. this one's new."

she takes off her shirt, and her black pants, leaving her in a plain black sports bra and plaid red boxers. she quickly hooks the harness around her hips and attaches the strap.

coming back on the bed, ellie looks at you with soft eyes, "is this okay with you?"

you nod, "yes, it's perfect."

she smiles, and she leans in to kiss you again, this time the kiss being much gentler than the previous one before. her hands make their way down your hips, and taking the hem of your dress in her hands, she slips it off of you.

pulling away, she takes the chance to gaze at your body. there was nothing but absolute adoration in those pools of green.

"you're beautiful, have i told you that?"

"only a couple times," you reply shyly, and ellie smiles, kissing your cheek.

her hands gently part your thighs, and she lines her cock up at your entrance. "we'll start off slow, yeah? you let me know if anything hurts, and i'll stop, baby."

looking up at her with glossy eyes, you nod. ellie takes the base of her strap and slowly slides it inside of your pussy, slowly filling you up.

"oh my god." was all you could muster.

"fuck," ellie curses, "you're so fuckin' wet for me, sweet girl."

filling you up almost completely, she grabs your waist and begins thrusting her hips, the strap easily sliding in and out of your wet pussy.

your eyes roll to the back of your head and you grab onto her arm, your grip tightening around her limb with each striking thrust.

the sound of clapping skin and wet slick fill the room, along with a combination of your soft whimpers and ellie's groans.

"keep your eyes on me, babe, wanna see those pretty eyes as i fuck you," ellie groans out, tilting your chin to look up at her.

how can something so wrong feel so right? she had your legs spread apart, with her strap buried deep inside you as dina slept soundly just downstairs.

it was hard to feel guilty when she was hitting every sweet spot inside you.

ellie leaned her forehead against yours, her thrusts never losing rhythm as you coat the black silicone in your white, cream.

as her strap slides in and out of your pussy, that familiar knot begins to form in your belly, and you feel almost as if you're nearing the edge.

"god, ellie— i think i'm about to cum," you stammer out, feeling your pussy tighten around her cock. ellie's eyes never stray away from yours, wanting to make sure you kept your eyes on her.

"yeah? come on, pretty girl, cum on my cock," she coaxes you, and her words cause that feeling of euphoria to wash over you, as you tip over the edge and writhe beneath her.

"ellie," you cry out, "i-i l-love you, fuck." you whimper out, as your pussy clenches around her, the black plastic strap squelching as your juices drip all over it.

"i love you, baby," ellie groans out, as she does one last thrust inside you, falling over in exhaustion onto the bed.

moments later, ellie gets up and takes the strap off. she cleans you up with a clean, wet rag, and climbs into your bed, the both of you still without clothes.

she drapes the blanket over your bodies, and she pulls you close to her.

"you okay?" she asks.

"mhm, i'm more than okay," you hum.

a comfortable silence falls, and you speak up again.

"i just wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow," you whisper, a stray tear falling down your cheek.

ellie kisses the top of your forehead, and rubs your back soothingly, "me neither, baby."

and you and ellie both fall asleep in each other's arms, just for this one night.

you really didn't want to have to see dina and ellie off.

it was sad enough that the girl you were in love with was dating your sister, but for her to go to university almost halfway across the country was something close to heartbreak.

luckily, ellie woke up early and got ready and packed up her things before dina woke up. but unfortunately, you woke up alone.

and for the rest of the morning, you stayed cooped up in your bedroom, not wanting to endure the sorrow of seeing ellie leave.

but she had to.

from your upstairs window, you watched as your father and ellie both began loading up the car with suitcases and other bags.

you didn't even want to say goodbye to her, knowing that the minute you saw her face, you'd burst into tears.

so, you just decided you wouldn't say anything to her at all. it was easier that way and it made a cleaner cut.

you hear a knock on your door, and your mother's head peeks out in your bedroom.

"hey honey," she coos, "come downstairs and say goodbye to ellie and dina."

you sigh and turn your head away from the door, "no, thanks. they'll be good without me."

you hear your mother sigh, and she shuffles into your room, closing the door behind you and sitting next to you on the bed.

"don't you wanna say goodbye to your sister, before she leaves?"

you shrug, "dee will be fine without my goodbye."

and for a moment, your mother is silent.

"well," she begins, "don't you want to say goodbye to ellie?"

you were stumped and you didn't reply.

"after all those late night conversations and such, i think ellie would want you to say goodbye."

your eyes widen in surprise, and you turn to look at your mother. "hold on, you know about that?"

she scoffs, "i may be your mom, but i'm not stupid." she laughs, "i can see things from a mile away, and my motherly intuition is telling me that...you like ellie."

you sigh and tear your eyes away from your mother, feeling ashamed, "i know, and i'm a terrible sister for that."

your mom soothingly rubs your back, "no, that makes you human. you can't help who you get feelings for, hun."

she tucks a piece of hair behind your ear and smiles at you, "ellie is an amazing girl, and i'm glad she realizes how wonderful you are."

tears fill your eyes, and you completely break down. your mom looks at you with sympathy, her heart cracking seeing her daughter experience heartbreak, "i love her, mom."

you let out these muffled sobs, and your mom takes you in her arms, comforting you as you cry.

as soon as you come back, she wipes your tears, and takes hold of your hands, "listen to me, sweetie," she coos, "if you love her, let her go, and if she comes back, she was always yours. but if she doesn't, it was never meant to be."

you laugh a little bit, "ugh, mom, that was corny."

"it is, but it's also true," she says, "which is why i think you need to say goodbye to ellie. life will take you in two different paths, and you'll regret it if you don't say anything."

absorbing her words, you nod and wipe your face with the sleeve of your sweatshirt. you get up from your spot, and hurry outside, nearly sprinting to the driveway, seeing dina already in the passenger seat and ellie about to get in the driver's side.

"wait!" you call out, and ellie's head snaps in your direction, a wide smile curling on her face.

first, you jog over to dina, "bye, dee. have fun at yale and stay safe."

you kept your words short and sweet.

"thanks, kid. go crazy in LA, okay?"

smiling, you nod at her and make your way over to the driver's side of the car, where ellie was standing and waiting.

you stand in front of her and you take a deep breath, before wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her in for a tight hug.

you take this opportunity to whisper in her ear, only for her to hear, "maybe in the off chance we see each other again, and things are right, we can give us a shot."

"you better stay true to your words, pretty girl, because i plan on seeing you again," you can hear the smile in her voice as her arms wrap around your waist.

before anyone notices the prolonged hug, you pull away from her and stand next to your mom and dad, where you all wave goodbye to them as they pull away and disappear into the road.

maybe in another life, in another time, in another dimension, you and ellie were together.

you would have this big house overlooking the hills, and you'd have this amazing studio with huge windows to paint whatever you wanted and ellie would have her own office, dealing with her own ordeals. you would have a dog running around with a grumpy cat trailing along with them. you and ellie would always end the day with dinner together, and by the end of the night, you would be curled up in her arms and life would be perfect.

but this wasn't another life. for now, you and ellie were just two souls who are merely passing by each other in this lifetime. from strangers to friends, friends into lovers, and strangers again.

♡♡♡♡♡♡

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams tlou #the last of us #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #tlou #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst

1K notes · View notes

actually-safer-to-kiss · 7 months

Text

See How It Shines

Summary: Spencer gets home from work to find Reader in tears over the new Hozier album.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff and comfort

Content warnings: The masterpiece of Hozier’s Unreal Unearth, me stopping halfway to listen to the entire album, me crying to every song I reference

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: shoutout to anyone who picks up on every song reference I make. I am instantly in love with you.

Spencer had been etched with the weight of unsolved cases and the relentless march of time, and he was forced to call it a night around six. The team had already pulled an all-nighter earlier in the week, so Hotch decided they all deserved rest. Spencer, however, wasn’t tired (he was; it was the late cups of coffee). Nevertheless, he makes it to his apartment door, skipping every other step. As Spencer turned the key in the lock, a soft melody flowed from the other side, haunting him yet drawing him in.

When the door opens with a slight creak, the music only grows. The living room was a sanctuary, bathed in the golden hues of twilight and table lamps, together casting long, ethereal shadows across the aged wooden floor. Plants adorned the walls and shelves. Since you moved in, he has never shared a space with so many simple living things. His record player, a testament to decades of shared music between him and his mother, spun its vinyl tale. This time it was for you, as it breathed life into the album as you sat on the couch in a nest of blankets.

Ah yes, it was Hozier day. The anticipated album release of Unreal Unearth. His girlfriend highly anticipated it. She had been vibrating as the week drew to a close with five days left, then three, then one. And it was well worth the wait, considering the tears continuing to streak her face as the Irish man begged for someone to not fall away from him.

Spencer set his bag down by the door and proceeded toward the couch with caution as if he were ready to pounce like a predator on prey. Except the end resulted in a tender hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him with a puffy face and snotty nose. It was Spencer’s next instinct to grab a tissue from the end table and offer it to you. Of course, you took it. And even though the answer was obvious, he still felt the need to ask, “Are you okay?”

It was a struggle for you to inhale, so you blew your nose again. "I didn’t expect this to be a breakup album.” The album sleeve was wrapped in your arms, proving to already be a prized possession. The tracklist was organized by the layers of Dante’s hell they fell under.

Spencer gave you a small smirk before placing a kiss on your head. “Well, I’ll go ahead and get started on dinner.” It was his turn to take the culinary reins for tonight. “Do you need anything?”

“I need to know who this woman is, Spencer.” You throw your head back as Hozier hits a high note that neither of you has heard from him before. You stay there as you ask, “Who made this man feel so much pain?”

“You want to fight Hozier’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Ew, no.” Your nose scrunched. “I just want to know how. The power to make a man feel this way.”

Spencer chuckled. He had answers. And he’s happy to not reply with any of them. “I’m making chicken parmesan. That okay?”

You nodded, soon returning to singing about holding a heart like a steering wheel. But you then grabbed his hand. Your eyes are red, and Spencer is sure you’ll need drops before the end of the night. “Did a part of you die the first time I called you ‘baby,’ Spencer?”

Spencer couldn’t help but smirk as he quirked a brow. “Do what?”

“They’re song lyrics.” You let go of him.

Spencer has never fully understood the uproar that comes with Hozier. Then again, no one really flocks to Beethoven and Chopin like they used to. Plus, Vivaldi wasn’t known for belting out in the middle of his pieces and Spencer can at least admit Hozier’s belts ( well, the ones he’s heard so far) tug at him by the chest. He came back to his senses quickly when his mismatched socks landed on the cold tile. He washed his hands and opened the fridge door with his good knee.

Songs of water and knives reminded him he had chicken to wash and cut. And the familiar feeling in his own kitchen gets the tasks in Spencer’s head in order. He could feel the weight of his week slowly lift, replaced by Spencer attempting to chop to the song. It was inefficient. Some songs play shockingly fast for a breakup album. He settled for a more percussion style of noise, making each slice more deliberate as a testament to his meticulousness.

The flour and breadcrumbs sizzled in the oil that mingled with the sight of you matching the pitch of the song and humming where Hozier shouted, caressing the album sleeve like it was alive and needed your warmth. The weight of the lyrics settling in your bones caused your head to fall in shock as a long, high note carried through the whole apartment.

The album played on, weaving tales of love and loss, each one successfully targeting your core and striking effectively. And when Spencer got into the groove of his own routine in the kitchen, he listened to the lyrics as they almost guided him to autopilot, reminding him of the joys that come with his leg around you in bed, ensuring you don’t move anywhere except closer to him. And how the idea of losing that is something he does not care to dwell on for long.

He could keep it together, he thought.

Until his voice soars about the glistening of an animal’s eyes. About the force of love for someone recklessly in the middle of the street. Spencer couldn’t help but feel a lump forming in his throat. It was a visceral reaction—Spencer's sniffle. But it wasn’t unheard.

You turned your gaze toward Spencer, your eyes soft with understanding. You could hear the emotion in his breath and the slight catch in his throat. “Spencer?” You asked.

“I’m fine.”

Your lower lip quivers with a puffy smile. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m chopping. Chopping while completely fine.” His sniffles continued to give him away (sanitary stations over pride every time).

You couldn’t help but find the situation adorable. You lazily got up from the couch, letting one of the blankets slide off with you, dragging along behind you across the wood floor and then the tile. You carefully put your hands around his waist because safety comes first. You squeeze him, and he laughs a little. For a moment, he puts his left hand on your arm, keeping it there. You noticed how his fingertips were colder than expected as you looked at the cutting board from under his arm. “So basil makes you cry? Is that it?”

Spencer laughs again, diverting his gaze from the record player and clearing his eyes from unshed tears. “Today, it apparently does. There must be some emotional properties I didn’t consider.”

“Nothing to do with an Irish man singing his heart out?”

Spencer rubs his nose on his sleeve. Fuck sanitation right now; he’s about to go through it. The snot is evident. See how it shines, indeed. “Is he really singing about roadkill?”

“Yep.” You sniffle in return as you lay your head on his back.

“Fuck.”

“I know.”

“How does he do it?”

“That I don’t know.” You held Spencer as he let the music hit him. Taking moments to turn from the food to wipe his tears.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fic

501 notes · View notes

moldybonessmell · 4 months

Text

Spider-squad winter outfits headcanons post!

you can tell i drew different charas in separate days oh wow

So i kinda posted few days ago about recent lack of atsv content Hobie content specifically so i had to deliver myself, amirite? Tho i decided to not stop on Hobie and did the entire spider-squad or perhaps, spider-quad? *badum tss* im funny see

also it's like -38C/-36.4F in my city and i be wearing like four layers at all times so i got inspired can't believe i still love winter when my ass be freezing this bad

So here's my headcanons for spider gang winter outfits!

Let's imagine they all have a mission in winter...

Gwen

She can't really wear her hood bc of wind but everyone teases her about looking bald without it lmaoo so she got one of these knitted hoods instead, also wears one of these fluffy soft jackets

Was wearing uggs until she lost one of the boots during a fight LOL so she got these uggs with velcro fasteners + leg warmers

pics: 1) found-store on Pinterest, 2) wglwkjg on Pinterest, 3) pey on Pinterest, 4) ·˚ Isabella·˚ on Pinterest

Miles

I see him wearing something kinda like his og itsv outfit but winter version with one of these gigantic puffy jackets and nike sneakers with fur inside + a hat with pompom

Let's imagine his jacket is opened, i didn't realise in time it makes his spiderman-outfit not-so-spider looking

pics: 1) Hipok on Pinterest, 2) Nordstrom on Pinterest

Pavitr

He got one of these fluffy earmuffs (because his hair needs to be looking perfect at all times!), a puffy cropped cord jacket, a pair of these puffy winter shoes (these have a ribbon so you don't lose them flying around a city) and a BIG scarf with mittens (he definitely lost one of these tho)

He's the least used to cold out of the squad, but he's being very brave about it and wears a socially acceptable amount of layers

pics: 1) Campus Gifts on Pinterest, 2) WTI Designer on Pinterest, 3) true deals club on Pinterest, 4) liisa rita on Pinterest 5) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Hobie

In contrast with Pavitr he would wear a disturbing amount of layers, definately one of these mfs who wear layers instead of one warm thing

He's got one of these plaid "winter" coats that are thin af but swears he's warm cus it gets hot during fights (nobody believes him cus they watch him start to shiver in real time) (Pavitr crocheting a scarf for him was the only way to make buddy dress fairly properly for cold weather)

At least Hobie got a warm hat, right? Yes, spikes on the mask do just go through it, but it's warm, right? -right? ("it's a ventilation, mate!" or whatever lol)

Got layers of sweaters over each other: a turtleneck-sweater, a cropped one on top + a vest over all these

Would wear his usual boots just with warm socks under

pics: 1) People on Pinterest, 2) Natalia on Pinterest 3) Fur Hat World on Pinterest 4) OLUOLIN on Pinterest 5) Elena Ilieva on Pinterest 6) EtsyCA on Pinterest

Disclaimer: english is not my native and i was SWEATING trying to find how all of these clothes are called in english so if i messed up some names ignore it pls or let me now how they are called correctly

Okay, this is all! Hope you liked it!

#atsv #gwen stacy #spider gwen #spider ghost #miles morales #spiderman #across the spiderverse #ghost spider #pavitr prabhakar #spiderman india #hobie brown #spider punk #atsv headcanons #headcanons

143 notes · View notes

anxious-alastor · 2 months

Text

May I Have This Dance? ||Pt. 1|| Albert Wesker x Fem! Reader

"Why are people so stupid." You groaned as you and your team returned to the STARS office of the Raccoon City Police Department.

"You seem cheery." Jill commented as she put away her outer layer of protective gear and harnesses.

"Yeah. Responding to a chemical threat and finding two idiots who couldn't bother to read a label is just peachy." You huffed as you closed your locker a little too hard.

"Is something wrong, Doctor?"

You whirled around to see Captain Albert Wesker standing in the doorway. His arms were crossed and his usual harsh expression seemed softer than usual as your frustration ebbed away.

"U-uh. No sir, Captain Wesker."

"Let's not go slamming doors then."

You opened your mouth to respond but he had already walked off. You looked at Jill who shrugged and shook her head. Another growl of frustration left you before you sat down at your desk to fill out the required paperwork.

***

Time flew by fast as you worked, before you knew it you were done and everyone had begun to pack up and leave. On your way out, something in your brain switched and you began noticing things.

Chris and Barry had been incoherent until you heard Barry say, "So are you excited for the Banquet?"

Your legs stopped moving as you thought hard to process what was said. Wasn't the banquet for another week?

There was another whisper from Rebecca to Jill that you managed to catch as they brushed past you.

"Have you got a new dress?"

The RPD Banquet. The special event hosted by the city for the Police Department to thank them for their work, to get cozy with donors, and to show off to other notable guests. You hated wearing formal clothes, especially the kind they'd expect you and your other coworkers to wear. Chief Irons had an especially strict dress code for the entire station. Of course you had pushed it out of your mind until now.

"Hey Jill wait—" You grabbed her shoulder before she got too far.

The brunette turned to you, intrigued and concerned by the sudden grab and the shift of color in your face.

"Something wrong? You look like you're in trouble."

"I guess you could say that," You glanced around, "Is the banquet tonight?"

She grinned sympathetically, "Yeah it is, you forgot didn't you?"

"Of course I did. And I don't have a dress."

"What happened to the one you wore last year?"

"I rented that one." You sighed softly, "Maybe I'll have to back out..."

"If you think that's best." She offered a pat on your shoulder before returning to her conversation with Rebecca.

You just sighed to yourself before disappearing off to your apartment.

***

You had settled on your bed after having taken a shower. Comfy in pjs and wrapped in your blanket, you were barely aware of some strange baking show as you wondered about the event taking place about an hour from now. Guilt simmered just below your chest as you thought about what you might've cost the Chief in donations.

Then your phone rang. You quickly dug around your blanket, slightly panicked as you weren't expecting a call and had allowed your cellphone to be engulfed by the soft fabric. It was around the fourth ring when you finally answered it.

"Why aren't you here?" It was Wesker.

"I uh... don't have anything to wear."

"You aren't coming to the most important night for the entire department because you don't have anything to wear?"

You felt your face grow hot with embarrassment as you stuttered into the phone.

There was a pause, a long excruciating pause that was only broken as he drew in and let out a sigh.

"I don't accept this. Get ready, I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"What—" You began but the call had disconnected.

You stared at your phone for a good minute before scrambling out of bed and attempting to not rush through your makeup. Even if it were a simple look, you didn't want it to seem sloppy.

You hovered around your hair for a moment before you heard the knocking at your door. With some hesitation, and after peeking through the peephole, you opened it to see your captain holding an opaque garment bag. You couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses as he offered it to you, but you swear you could see his cheeks get slightly pink.

You took it, glancing at him warily, "Do you want to come in?"

"I'll wait out here."

You just nodded before closing the door and quickly returning to your room.

Upon opening the dress you found that it was rather unique to you. It hugged you in all the right places and draped where it needed to, and it stopped at the length you felt most comfortable with. The only thing not tailored to your comfort was the color scheme. Black lace covered the deep crimson fabric that felt soft against your skin.

You admired the dress for a moment before deciding to add some dark red to your makeup look to compliment the colors. You then slipped into some heels and met your captain outside.

"I need you to zip it. I can't reach." Your voice was breathless and a little uneven.

He chuckled softly and placed one hand against your lower back while the other pulled up the zipper. He then led you to a limousine that he had hired.

***

It felt like the world finally slowed down as you settled onto the leather seat across from your captain. You hadn't noticed his outfit entirely until now. It matched yours perfectly—his was elegant and yet much more moody. It was hard to suppress a giggle as you realized how perfectly that described the man across from you.

"Something funny?" He tilted his head towards you.

You shook your head quickly, glancing out the window to avoid his gaze.

"How come you went through all the trouble just to get me to the Banquet? How did you get this dress so quickly?" You had so many questions.

"It's the most important event of the year according to Chief Irons. It was no trouble at all really." He paused as if deciding on his words. "I had a tailor design and make the dress a couple weeks ago. You seemed to be drowning in work."

"And my sizing?"

"Based off the size of your gear in your locker."

It seemed reasonable enough, though still very strange. You couldn't be too upset though since you'd be able to attend the banquet and not get teased for lack of attendance the next day.

Silence fell in the space until you reached the venue where the roar of chatter was a gentle rumble from outside. Your chauffeur parked and opened the door for the both of you. Wesker stepped out then offered you his hand which you took gratefully as you bowed out of the vehicle.

There were some people outside, not necessarily for you or your Captain but for the donors. Some of Raccoon city's biggest celebrities were attending and everyone wanted to see.

"Keep your chin up." Wesker spoke softly, something unusual for him as he wrapped your arm around his.

Your head had been tilted down, eyes preferring the ground rather than those who might be looking at you. Upon registering his words you lifted your head, faintly blushing as you tried to keep your eyes forward. Your hand gripped his arm tight as he led you into the venue.

All eyes were on you.

#resident evil #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker #jill valentine #chris redfield #barry burton #rebecca chambers #alternative universe #feminine reader #resident evil alternate universe #idk what else to tag #wesker x reader #Black tie event #umbrella corporation #shy reader #resident evil wesker

75 notes · View notes

impala-dreamer · 7 months

Text

Of Whipped Cream & Body Heat

A Supernatural Story

~After getting jumped on a hunt, Y/N and Dean find themselves locked in a walk-in refrigerator. Can they brave the cold and each other's temper until Sam sets them free?~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam

2192 Words

Warnings: NSFWish... Banter and Romance and Snark and Fluff and Just... I love it. I LOVE IT. Please Enjoy.

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

A/N: This and hundreds more fics are available anytime on Patreon

“I don’t know how or why, but I feel like you planned this.”

Y/N popped a hip and chewed on a fingernail, staring angrily at the big metal door blocking her exit.

The fluorescent lights above were harsh, sure to blind them both if they looked up for too long. The air being circulated through the walk in fridge was so cold that she could feel her nipples and everything else perk towards too hard.

Dean scoffed. “Why the hell would I have planned this?”

He shifted against the back wall and stretched his long legs out, taking a moment to regroup. His head was still bleeding and Y/N frowned at the cut above his eye when she glared back at him.

“You’ve probably got a concussion,” she sighed, grabbing a head of lettuce off the shelf to her left and chucking it at him. “Put that on your head.”

Dean cocked a brow in confusion. “Uh… why?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because it’s cold. You gotta stop the swelling. You don’t want a bump, do you?”

Annoyed, he tossed the cabbage back and it landed at her feet. “I don’t want that.”

“So sorry you disapprove, but the frozen peas are next door in the freezer!”

“Why are you yelling at me!”

“You’re yelling, too!”

“Because you’re yelling at me!”

“I fucking- I- Damnit, Dean!”

Pursing his lips, he let it go and looked away, trying to think up a plan to get them out of there.

They were chasing a monster- again- and things went south- again. They weren’t really even sure just what they were dealing with other than that it was big, fast, and conked them both on the head before they knew what was happening. The knock out sucked, but waking up trapped in a fridge was proving to be even worse.

Dean yanked his phone from his pocket and made a show of holding it up to look for bars.

“I got nothing,” he sighed, pressing random buttons just in case.

“Of course you don’t.”

“What?”

Y/N nearly growled. “We’re in a big metal box. You’re not gonna have a signal in here. It’s science.”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t ‘science’ me, Y/N/N. You know I hate that.”

She crossed her arms defiantly. “Science?”

“No. When you act like you know everything and I’m just an idiot grunt. I know things, too, OK?”

Y/N clicked her tongue and let the anger sizzle. She turned her back on Dean and slammed her fist into the door.

“Hello! Hello! Someone help us!”

Dean kicked a knee up and leaned his arm on it. “No one’s gonna hear you, it’s past one in the morning.”

Again, she banged on the door. “Hello! I’m trapped in here with a grunt person and he’s very annoying!”

He seethed. “Get over yourself.”

She glared. “You.”

Green eyes narrowed. Pink lips curled. “You.”

Y/N huffed and closed her eyes, done with him and then entire hunt. “I give up.”

Dean picked at a split nail on his left thumb. “Yeah, well, so do I.”

“Great.”

Tossing her arms up in surrender, Y/N spun and threw her back against the wall. The metal was freezing and she drew her arms in across her chest.

Silence hung between them like their breath, dancing in the air before their noses both threatening and childishly amusing.

Time ticked by and Y/N squinted, trying to read Dean’s watch from across the room.

“How long we been in here?” she asked, teeth starting to chatter noticeably.

Dean peeked at the time. “Half hour, maybe. Dunno.”

She shivered. “Wonderful.”

“You cold?”

She shrugged. “A little.”

Hoping to his feet, Dean shrugged off his top layer and walked across the fridge, holding it out for her.

“Take it.”

Y/N shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”

A heavy sigh came out like dragon’s breath and Dean ducked down to grab her arm, lifting her onto her feet. “Come on. Just take it.”

“What about you?” She looked up with worried eyes, finally over the annoyance and throbbing headache.

“Ah, I’ll be fine. I’m layered.” He winked as he tossed the green canvas over her shoulders and buttoned the top button. “There ya go. Better?”

Y/N nodded. “Thanks.”

It was a thousand times better. The jacket was a little smelly, tinged with smoke and gun oil and something that was similar to but not altogether taco seasoning. Still, it was warm and Y/N sank into the heat as she calculated how long they could last in thirty eight degrees.

Dean watched her closely. “You’re doing math,” he said with a soft laugh. “I know that nose crinkle anywhere.”

Y/N gasped, feigning offence. “I don’t have a math face.”

“Sure you don’t.” He licked his lips and shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about the cold,” he told her, moving away to inspect the food lining the walls.

“Yeah? What would you worry about?”

“Oxygen.”

She tried not to show her nervousness. “W-what?”

Picking through a box of vegetables, he nodded. “Yeah. We’re in a big metal box, right? Probably sealed up real good. You should be more worried about running out of air. We’ll suffocate before we freeze to death.”

The chill gripped her bones and Y/N’s eyes went wide. In her worst nightmares, she was always drowning or suffocating, dying in some horrid fashion unable to breathe. Her lip trembled.

“Dean, I-”

Her voice cracked with fear and he turned, smug and unaffected.

“Wait a minute.” Her brain defrosted and she sneered. “You asshole. There’s vents right there!” She shoved a hand towards the back right corner of the fridge. “We’re not gonna suffocate. But you may die bloody if you keep this up.”

“Hey, now-”

An apple flew at his head and Dean dodged it at the last second.

“Hey!”

“You should eat more fruit anyway,” she jeered.

“Oh, I’ll eat more fruit, alright!”

Y/N laughed. “How is that a come back? Are you threatening me by threatening to eat better?”

Dean’s face turned as red as the aerial apple. “I- You- Damnit. Shut up.”

“You are an idiot.”

“And you are more frustrating than a- a-”

“A what?”

“A something very frustrating…”

Again, they dropped into quiet, each on their own side of the six by nine foot room.

When her worry grew too strong, Y/N cracked the silence. “Sam will come get us, right?” she blurted, words exploding like a cloud of smoke from her lips.

Dean chewed his lip and nodded, though his face was twisted with concern. “Yeah. Totally. Hundred percent. He’s probably on his way right now.”

She didn’t believe him. Sam hadn’t even known where they were going and the GPS on their phones was dead because their phones were dead. “Yeah…”

“Yeah…”

Y/N picked at a string inside the sleeve of his jacket. Her fingers were painfully cold, the tip of her nose felt like ice, her ears were numb.

“I don’t wanna die in here,” she whispered, looking up at the big handle-less door.

Dean’s jaw twitched as he swallowed down a rush of worry. “We won’t. I promise.” Her eyes flickered over to him and guilt walloped Dean in the chest. “What, you don’t believe me?” he teased, hoping to get her to laugh.

She shrugged, too cold to argue. Back still against the door, she folded in on herself, tucking her chin to her chest and hugging her knees.

Even from across the room he could see how badly she was shaking, and it made him realize he was vibrating with cold as well.

“This is stupid,” he sighed, pushing up and away from the nearly freezing floor.

Y/N watched him stalk across the fridge, fear leaking into her face as he got close.

“W-what’re you doing- Oh!”

Dean sat down before she could stop him and pulled her close, crushing her face into his chest. He was cold too, but the added layers had given him a little temperature cushion, and Y/N sank into his residual warmth. She exhaled hard and slid her hands beneath his flannel, hugging tight.

“Fuck, you’re so warm.”

Dean rested his chin on the top of her head. “No, you’re just icy.” He could hear her teeth clinking together and he rubbed his hands vigorously down her back and upper arms. “Figure we can share some body heat before it’s all gone.”

She didn’t respond.

Y/N closed her eyes and let him take care of her, resisting the urge to make a nasty comment or start their fight up again. There was never a reason for their continuous bickering except for the obvious, unrequited love story brimming beneath the surface of their friendship. And it wasn’t as if they didn’t know of each other’s feelings, it was just that life was too hard already, and adding a romantic relationship into the mix felt like more work than it was worth.

So they fought.

A lot.

He felt good wrapped around her, somewhat warm and mostly soft. She ran her fingers up his back and the muscles flexed, shoving too many ideas into her head.

“Thank you,” she purred, curling deeper into him.

Dean sucked on his bottom lip and closed his eyes as he breathed her in. She smelled like apples. Not like the artificial apple flavoring that for some reason was always neon green; no, she smelled like fresh apples on a tree. Like he was walking through a sunlit orchard with her, hands clasped, smiles bright and-

“Uh-” Dean shook himself and cleared his throat. “Yeah. No problem. Could be a while before Sammy tracks us down so-”

“Yeah. But he will. I know he will.”

His heart was beating fast, she could hear it if she pressed her ear to the center of him. It beat a little faster when her hand slid from his back to his hip, faster still when she lay it on his thigh.

“Dean?”

Too afraid that his voice would break, he hummed without moving his lips. “Hmm?”

She hooked her nails along the seam of his jeans and tugged slightly.

“I’ve read that skin-to-skin contact is the best for… sharing body heat…”

His heart pounded like a jackhammer.

Y/N grinned.

“There ya go getting all sciency on me again.”

She bit her lip and pulled back, looking up at him. “Science has been known to save lives, you know.” She shifted, twisting around so that she was up on her knees, eye level with him. “Just a thought… Maybe we should-”

Green eyes went wide. “Oh, hell yes.”

He reached for her face; giant right hand sliding against her cheek and pulling her in.

The kiss was awkward and uncertain. Y/N couldn’t stop a laugh from bubbling up inside and Dean couldn’t decide which was to tilt his head. They faltered and pulled away, looking anywhere but at each other.

Y/N coughed. “Well. That was-”

Dean frowned and shrugged. “I mean, as far as first kisses go, it was really-”

“Rather…”

“Shit.”

Y/N laughed and turned back to him, hiding her face in her hands. “It really was.”

Dean sat up straight and squared his shoulders. “We can do better.”

“You sound so sure.”

His smirk was too much to handle. “Practice makes perfect.”

It really did.

Their next kisses were the good kind of sloppy and they quickly found a rhythm, falling head first into each other. Shirts were cast aside, jeans were wriggled out of, and boots flew across the floor. Hands explored, tongues tasted, pleasures were matched. Their breath floated above them in foggy crystalline clouds and friction kept them alive.

When the door finally opened, they were lounging together by the back wall, tangled up, laughing and squirting whipped cream into each other’s mouths.

Sam burst in, gun raised, brow furrowed and sweaty. Panting, he took a quick look around before his eyes settled on the two captives.

“Hey! I- uh-” Lowering his gun, he straightened up, entire form on edge as he struggled to explain the scene to himself. “What’s going on?”

“Sammy!” Dean beamed from the floor, a bit of cream hanging from the corner of his lip. “What took ya so long?”

Visually offended, Sam averted his eyes. “Looking for you,” he said firmly. “Again, what is going on?”

Y/N laughed and licked the whipped topping from Dean’s mouth. “We got hungry. There was pastry…really good cannoli-like thing.” She looked at Dean. “It was a cannoli, right?” He nodded. “Yeah. And then I found this thing of whipped cream and…ya know… we’re eating it.”

Exasperated, Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “Yeah. OK. But… Why are you naked?”

Dean chuckled and grinned up at his little brother. “Science.”

Y/N nodded and stuck the cream nozzle into her mouth. “Science!”

Done with his brother, his friend, the case, and anything else that God wanted to throw his way, Sam hung his head and turned away, heading back into the warmth of the dark restaurant kitchen. “Science.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @iamsapphine @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @iprobablyshipit91 @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @leigh70 @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @spnexploration @stevekempscocktails @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library

#dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean x reader #spn fanfic

167 notes · View notes

voidpetrova · 8 months

Text

cold — stiles stilinski x reader

☄. *. ⋆

content warnings and genre: none — fluff

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

synopsis: you've always been cold-hearted, you had made such a mess of your life. stiles stilinski, on the other hand, was always good at cleaning things up

✧.*

in the corner of the bar, where the air was heavy with laughter and the clinking of glasses, you held court with an aura of detachment. your remarks were as quick as your dart throws, and your eyes held a practiced indifference. you were known for the strength you exuded, a fortress built around a heart guarded by layers of skepticism. and then there was stiles stilinski, a whirlwind of energy and charm, who stumbled into your world like a hurricane. his attempts at bravado were overshadowed by the genuine nervousness that radiated from him as he hesitantly approached the pool table, unsure if he was prepared to face the challenge of breaking down the barriers you'd carefully constructed. little did he know that his persistent determination would be the catalyst to unravel the enigma you had become, gradually chipping away at the ice to reveal the warmth you had long hidden within.

as Stiles leaned against the pool table, trying to summon the courage to engage you, your eyes flicked up to meet his, briefly locking in a silent battle of wills. the smirk on your lips deepened as you noted the unease in his stance, the way his fingers fidgeted with the chalk, and the nervous gulp he tried to hide. with a casual grace, you lined up your shot, the sharp thud of the cue ball against the others filling the air as you pocketed one ball after another.

stiles watched in a mix of awe and intimidation, his initial confidence waning with every precise move you made. his own attempts at playing pool suddenly felt feeble in comparison, his aim faltering as the pressure of your silent scrutiny bore down on him. yet, even in the face of your unwavering demeanor, there was something magnetic about the challenge you presented – an allure that drew him in despite his reservations.

after what felt like an eternity of missed shots and nervous laughter, he finally managed to sink a ball, though his victory was met with an amused quirk of your eyebrow. the corner of his mouth twitched into a half-smile as he shrugged, the tension in his shoulders easing ever so slightly.

as the game continued, so did the banter. your sarcasm matched his as it bounced off the walls, aimed at him with a precision that could've wounded, yet strangely, it only made him more determined to hold his ground. stiles found himself engaging in a verbal spar that was half-insults, half-teasing, and entirely exhilarating.

the pool table was a battleground of wit and skill, each shot a chance to one-up the other. stiles leaned over the table, squinting at the layout of the balls. “so, uh, i guess this is where i show off my skills,” he quipped, his grin almost cocky.

you rolled your eyes dramatically, leaning against your cue. “oh, i can hardly wait to witness this display of unparalleled talent,” you deadpanned, your sarcasm dripping like honey.

stiles pulled back the cue and took his shot, missing the mark by a mile. he straightened up, laughing nervously. “beginner's luck, right?”

“or perhaps a glimpse of your true potential,” you shot back, your eyebrow raised. You took your turn and sank a ball effortlessly.

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “right, because everyone knows sinking one ball totally makes you a pool shark.”

“but of course. one could only dream of reaching such illustrious heights,” you replied with feigned admiration, your tone oozing with playful mockery.

stiles's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer to you. “you know, i've heard they're thinking of renaming the game '(y/n)'s pool' in honor of your legendary skills.”

you burst into laughter, unable to hold back. “oh, absolutely. and they're even commissioning a statue in my likeness to be erected in every pool hall across the country.”

stiles grinned, taking his next shot with a determined focus. “i can already picture it – you, stoically posed by the pool table, gazing into the distance as if contemplating the mysteries of the universe.”

“ah, yes. contemplating the mysteries of how you manage to miss every shot,” you countered, your smile teasing.

stiles pretended to clutch his heart in mock agony. “ouch! that one hurt. right in the ego.”

“you're welcome. consider it a free service,” you replied, sinking another ball effortlessly.

as the game continued, the exchange of comments became a playful dance, each comment a step closer to dismantling the walls you'd both built. the bar hummed with laughter and camaraderie, the tension between you and him slowly giving way to something that felt unexpectedly comfortable and exciting.

with a triumphant grin, you lined up your shot and expertly sent a striped ball into the corner pocket. as you straightened up, you glanced over at stiles who was watching you with a mix of admiration and bemusement.

“wow, i have to admit, that was pretty impressive,” he said, raising his beer to you in a mock salute.

you offered a small nod of acknowledgment and turned towards the bar. “thanks. i'll take a whiskey sour,” you ordered, your voice carrying a hint of authority. stiles chimed in, “i'll have a beer.”

as the bartender prepared your drinks, stiles leaned in, his voice lowering as he said, “you know, it's funny. everyone in the pack sees you as this walking mystery, a bigger asshole than derek, if you can believe it.”

you smirked, taking a sip of your drink once it arrived. “well, it's always good to have a reputation to uphold.”

stiles chuckled, swirling his beer in his glass. “yeah, but i think there's more to it. i've seen the way you watch us, especially when we're all together. it's like you're keeping us at arm's length, but you're still invested somehow.”

you took a deep breath, your guard momentarily slipping as you met his gaze. “you're observant, stiles.”

he shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “comes with the territory. but seriously, what's your story? what turned you into this enigma?”

you hesitated, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass. “i used to be different, you know. just like derek.”

stiles' eyebrows shot up in surprise. “wait, seriously? i mean, no offense, but i don't really see you and eerek having a lot in common.”

a bitter smile tugged at your lips. “maybe not on the surface. but there was a time when i let myself fall in love, just like he did. and i let him get hurt.”

stiles' expression softened, his voice gentle. “i'm sorry to hear that. but that's not a reason to close yourself off from everyone.”

you met his gaze, vulnerability flickering in your eyes. “when you hurt someone you love, stiles, it changes you. it makes you question everything. and since then, i've been… this way.”

he reached out, his fingers brushing against yours. “hey, we all make mistakes. but the past is the past. love has a funny way of finding its way back into our lives.”

you stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and hope warring within you. “you really believe that?”

stiles smiled, his eyes earnest. “i do. and maybe, just maybe, i'm here to remind you that not everyone will hurt you like before.”

as his words settled over you, a warmth spread through your chest, thawing some of the ice that had encased your heart for so long. in the midst of this playful game and banter, an unexpected connection had blossomed – one that had the potential to rewrite the narrative you'd clung to for so many years.

#teen wolf #tw #stiles #stiles stilinski #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski angst #stiles stilinski smut #derek hale #x reader

155 notes · View notes

kienava · 1 year

Text

So someone asked me to make a post about Blake’s development so far in order to discuss the question of where Blake’s character can progress at this point in RWBY given that her arc with Adam wrapped up in V6 and she didn’t really carry a plot line in V7-8. I do media and story things for a living, but I’m also an intimate partner abuse survivor - needless to say, Blake’s story is important to me. Hopefully my perspective helps answer concerns about Blake’s story being “over,” because I think it’s very much the opposite.

(Continued below the cut because this turned into an entire essay.)

I want to preface this by saying I understand why it might be difficult to picture what Blake’s story looks like going forward. I largely credit this to the relative dearth of compassionate, healing-oriented narratives about abuse survivors in media. A lot of what we see is either revenge fantasies or stories about facing the abuser and arriving at a point of ultimate catharsis. In some sense, this is a broader fault in the standards of western storytelling, which is oriented around that singular, climactic catharsis, but that’s another essay. In truth, a mostly linear progression towards a pivotal point of recovery isn’t how healing from abuse works. It’s a messy process, and life is rarely as linear as in fiction. I think RWBY incorporates that nonlinearity into Blake’s arc very well.

Speaking of Blake’s arc, let’s look at that.

When we first meet her in volume 1, she’s introduced as an aloof, independent loner who’s very resistant to getting closer to people. Most of her classmates perceive her as mysterious and alluring at best, callous and cold at worst. Once we start to understand more of her history, it’s easier to see her attitude as the defense mechanism it is. She wants to keep people at arm’s length because she doesn’t trust them not to hurt her – but she also believes that she will harm people she gets close to just because of who she is. That whole Beauty and the Beast dichotomy, you know? Adam told her that she ruins things. It doesn’t help that he groomed her into a terrorist organization and thus her surrounding community has also labeled her a threat. She’s got a few overlapping layers of distorted thinking to work through when it comes to her image of herself and others. The way she perceives people is, at first, overwhelmingly informed by her traumatic experiences with Adam and the White Fang.

It’s pretty strongly implied that Blake bent the rules in the forest and intentionally selected Yang as her partner. When we first see Blake dashing around in the shadows, Yang is taking down a Grimm while sassing it to death. Blake talks later about how Adam’s charisma drew her to him initially, so it’s no surprise that when she was choosing her next partner, she gravitated to the same superficial qualities. During the first White Fang arc, after her self-destructive spiral, Blake starts to genuinely trust her teammates for the first time. That trust is tested when Yang fights Mercury. In this moment, Blake is confronted with the possibility that a pattern might be repeating itself: what if she was drawn to Yang for reasons beyond the superficial? What if Yang doesn’t just share Adam’s positive qualities, but his negative ones, too? The impulsiveness, the violence, the abuse – but Blake stops herself. She chooses to trust that Yang isn’t Adam, and she says as much. She’s accepting that Adam is in her past and electing to move forward. How perfectly, neatly linear.

Then the end of volume 3 happens.

For an abuse survivor, the idea that an abuser you’ve gotten away from might come crashing back into your life is possibly the scariest thing in the entire world. This is exactly what happens when Adam shows up, and Blake’s worst fears come true. He makes a point of hurting someone she cares about simply because he can to prove that he still has power over her. Blake runs because she thinks the only way she can protect the people she cares about is to be away from them. That paradoxical duality of (1) fearing harm will be done to her by others and (2) doing harm to others herself rears its head.

One specific question I was asked is why Blake talks about Yang so little in volumes 4 and 5. If Blake isn’t talking about the people she left behind, is she even thinking about them? I say, well of course she is. It’s coloring her entire attitude.

When Blake returns to Menagerie, she’s back in the place where she met her abuser. She’s at her parents’ house, a place that has been a symbol of everything she left behind when she ran away the first time. Now she’s run from another home. Menagerie is riddled with traumatic memories for her, both interpersonally and on a structural, systemic level. Everywhere she goes could be a place where Adam said something awful to her, made her obey him in some way, asserted control. She also has to confront him in person again, too.

With Adam around, of course she’s not going to risk mentioning Yang. He got one inkling that Blake cared about someone else and cut their fucking arm off. The one time Blake mentions Yang by name, her voice cracks so obviously it’s like she’s forcing herself to get the word out. Through both of these volumes, Blake has other external goals, but she’s still trying to protect someone she cares about. At this point, she’s constantly struggling with two motivations: hope and fear. She wants to make the world a better place, but she’s terrified of what she’ll have to confront in order to do it because of what she’s already lost. Her choice to reunite with her team and fight shows that ultimately hope wins out.

In Volume 6, Blake and Yang facing Adam is essentially the B plot of the whole volume. He appears in flashes before the major confrontation at the end, but the damage he’s done to both of them is intrinsically tied into Blake and Yang’s relationship throughout.

The end of this volume offers the climactic moment of confronting and overcoming the abuser. Afterwards, Blake collapses and cries. Catharsis! Yay! We’re done now, right? This may be why, to some people, defeating Adam is the obvious “end” of Blake’s character arc. Again, I’d argue that this perception comes from how abuse is often depicted in media, but there’s also a very intense pressure in the real world for survivors not to speak out and share their stories. Even people who are abuse survivors might not publicly claim that label for a multitude of reasons. Namely, it fucking hurts to think about it, and also sometimes people are real weird about it. I don’t blame anyone who doesn’t want to carry that weight around all the time. We can see some inklings of Blake dealing with this challenge over the course of the show, though they’re subtle. Early on, she explicitly avoids talking about Adam until she absolutely has to, and even when she does start to unpack what he did, she often talks about it with visible shame (averting her eyes, etc). Unfortunately, shame is a very common sentiment for abuse survivors to carry, and addressing it is a major part of Blake’s journey as she starts to heal in volume 6.

Another point of interest posed was to look at Blake’s role in volumes 7 and 8. There’s an argument that she doesn’t really do anything or that her role is as a somewhat generic support figure within the group. I wholeheartedly disagree.

While Blake doesn’t carry a plotline herself during the Atlas arc, she and Yang embody polarized attitudes towards the global conflict the group is facing, and that contrast serves the larger narrative very well. Because she was raised by activists in a context where she was constantly thinking about civil rights, Blake wants to address the broader ideological conflict at play. Yang, whose childhood consisted of raising her younger sister, wants to help people in a practical, immediate way. Blake is an abstract, big-picture thinker, and Yang is more focused on what’s right in front of her. This isn’t a dig at either of them; it’s just a difference in prioritites. At first, Yang worries that these differing priorities will be a source of tension between them, but when she and Blake talk things through they’re able to understand each other without judgment. Blake is learning to reconnect with the idealist she used to be in her early youth, someone who fought for a cause purely because she wanted to make the world a better place. She’s able to embrace that side of herself around Yang even though they have different priorities, and they’re still able to support each other’s goals.

Furthermore, on a purely interpersonal level in V7-8, Blake has interactions with other characters that speak specifically to the healing journey she’s been on. Yes, these are significantly quieter moments than a fight to the death on a bridge over a waterfall, but that doesn’t mean they should be written off. Quiet and peace are part of healing, and that doesn’t have to undermine the story’s integrity. Dramatic tension is still possible amidst this, as we saw in Blake’s talks with Yang where they discuss their team’s split strategic approaches. When Blake talks to Nora about the importance of not losing yourself in someone else, that’s her speaking from experience. She’s lost herself in a relationship before, and she knows how hard it is to come back from that, but she survived. She healed. The asserted importance of self-compassion in relationships has a unique gravity coming from Blake. She has a strongly developed ability to balance interpersonal empathy with community- and global-level stakes, which we’re already seeing glimmers of at the beginning of V9 as she steps up to come up with a plan on the island.

In summary, Blake’s arc isn’t just about that final showdown with Adam. She faces her abuser, runs away, faces him again, and again, finally evicts him from her life for good - and after that, her story continues.

She goes on to find ways to heal from her past. That process involves renewing compassion for her loved ones, her community, and the world as a whole; learning how to love without fear; and reconnecting with who she was before she was forced to become aloof and detached to protect herself. Although the circumstances of abuse convinced her that she was a coward, she is, and has always been, an incredibly brave character. She’s finally recognizing that at the current point in the story. Ultimately, I think this is the thing connects her to Yang and the rest of team RWBY so strongly: they’re brave enough to love and have hope even when forces of adversity tell them they shouldn’t dare to. Blake is a courageous idealist with a heart full of compassion, and ultimately not even Adam could destroy that about her.

My serious answer to the question of where Blake’s character will go now is that I think she’ll be a sort of de facto leader on the island as Ruby spirals into existential depression. Hopefully that arc resolves in a way that’s consistent with the show’s overall message about hope winning out, and past this volume Blake will still carry that optimistic but grounded revolutionary spirit and continue to be a center of compassion and hope.

My catharsis-oriented answer is this: aside from being trapped on a magical fairy tale island, Blake is free for the first time in a very long time, and she can go wherever the fuck she wants.

#it's time for KIE'S OPINION #blake belladonna #rwby v9 #rwby spoilers #cw: abuse #tw: abuse mention #i have a lot of thoughts about blake. if you couldn't tell.#i went full english lit minor #anyway if anyone starts clowning on this post i will not hesitate to block your ass

417 notes · View notes

ecoamerica · 20 days

Text

youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

5K notes · View notes

rocksanddeadflowers · 5 months

Text

I'm always getting told to post more about my crafts and whatnot so... patchwork Forgetmenauts shirt anyone?

Process under cut bc it was a scrap project and I had fun making it:

I had two green shirts I had been using as scrap fabric (first one was a graphic t shirt I didn't care for much, and the second is part of a shirt I thrifted mainly bc I adored the color and got it specifically for patch making). (Also sorry for poor quality on some images the camera lens on my phone is cracked lol.)

I really wanted a green shirt for layering (I've been slowly trying to get more earth tones in my wardrobe for a while, really), so I sliced and stitched these two pieces into one whole shirt again! I used my sewing machine to stick them together and hand stitched the smaller details I couldn't do on my machine. Then I forgot to take any more photos until after painting and cutting on it.

But that's how it came out! Pulled out my fabric paint (the tube was like 50 cents at the time I couldn't resist that) and drew the band name. I stylized the font more than initially intended, and I hope it's still legible to most folk lol (also noticed afterwards that some looked like actual Nordic runes. I must draw runes too much). Also cropped the shirt a bit (and will be saving the leftover fabric for another day!)

I was pretty happy with this result alone but I decided to be over the top and add some patches.

They're all references to songs (Card Shark, Charlatan in Red, Helena and Gerard, and the fangs are just... a general reference. I feel like a lot of creatures/people in their songs have fangs. Plus those are fun and easy to paint.)

Slapped those on and boom! Shirt! Finished shirt at the top. I'm rather happy with the end result (was aiming for a sorta gremlincore vibe with it so I think it was achieved). I might make changes eventually, like painting more details on or reinforcing some of the patches, but generally it's done. I'm mostly happy I achieved this with my scrap material! New merch for one of my favorite bands ever just from my leftovers! Always happy to be able to reuse and waste less. If you read this entire thing, bless you and have a good day/night <3

#the forgetmenauts #punk crafts #sewing #gremlincore #etc etc idk what else I'd tag this as

99 notes · View notes

bluebayousblog · 10 months

Text

RUMOR HAS IT (pt. 7)

(Drew Starkey one-shot)

This is not a full on story but if you want more l'll be happy to add on upon request

Plot: in which drew and isobel address a false rumor in the most abstract of ways

Setting: dinner with the cooper’s and starkey’s

Disclaimer: Isobel is an OC, 18+

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

PART 6

The holidays’ with the Cooper and Starkey family were filled with a multitude of dinners, business events, and surprises that did not seem to dim as the years have passed by. Since Isobel and Drew left for college they made it a tradition to host a dinner in honor of their return from fall semester of school. Each year they alternated hosts, and since Drew’s family hosted last year they were having dinner at Isobel’s.

She loved coming home for the holiday’s and spending time with her parents. Being so far away gave her a lot of opportunity to miss them, and most of the time when her mother, Lora, came up stairs to question her until she worked her way up to asking about a possible boyfriend she didn’t mind, but this year was different and the reason was because of the boy who was downstairs hopefully keeping his cool around their fathers.

“Isobel, I just refuse to believe no man has tried to get your attention at University.” Her mom exasperated, her hands waving in the air with so much sass. She was so animated, something Isobel always found endearing about her. She also has inherited this dramatic characteristic, but it came out most when she was around her, when she was the most comfortable to truly be herself.

She hated how it was inevitable that she was going to have to lie to her mother over the course of the break. Sure, she didn’t have to share all of her personal business with her, but it didn’t make her feel any less guilt for pretending like she wasn’t involved with her father’s business partner’s son. The relationship they had with the Starkey family added a layer of complexity to the entire situation, and only added to her anxiety about the truth coming out.

“I’m not gonna settle for what that school has to offer, Mom.“ Isobel responded. Apart from her dwindling interest in dating since her last relationship, she’d always lived by this sentiment ever since being exposed to what her college had to offer. There were cute guys of course, but none she would enter into a serious relationship with.

Drew did not fall into that category of men that attended her university for a multitude of reasons. She’d known him going on ten years now, he was the son of a very successful man that happened to be in business with her father, and above all else he was a friend—something she was realizing meant much more to her then it did a few weeks ago.

It was an effort to meet her mother’s gaze, but when she did it her eyes were filled with what seemed to be pride. When tears slithered onto her water line she knew her mother was about to start gushing and getting all sentimental as she did every time they were apart, “I just don’t know how I got so lucky to have such a resilient woman as my daughter.”

Isobel’s heart squeezed, her mother always had the ability to appreciate the things about her that truly mattered. She still complimented her beauty more than anyone she knew, but from a young age before she matured physically, she always felt special with what she had to offer internally because of her.

“Mom, I’m the lucky one.” She wrapped her arms around her in a gentle hug, Isobel knew her mom would be the most understanding when it came to finding out about Drew, even if their relationship never progressed past what it was currently, but she also knew it would hurt her to know Isobel felt she couldn’t confide in her. She’d always known Isobel had trouble expressing her feelings, and because of that she never pressured her into it—but still when Lora found out she’d waited weeks to tell anyone she was being cheated on, she held her in her arms so long it made it up for all the time Isobel had spent hurting in silence, “I promise you will be the first to know when there’s another guy.”

Drew had always been in her life, and though he seemed to now view her as more than a friend, that’s all it was at the moment. Lust and pure infatuation. Neither one of them had expressed wanting more, and to Isobel a few hookups was not worth spilling the beans to her family or friends—especially with his past. She’d already been the girl who was blindly cheated on, and she did not want to be viewed as just another one of Drew’s conquests. She knew she wouldn’t be able to take the pity this time because she knows what she is getting herself into and how it could potentially end—and to Isobel that was far worse.

“You only tell me when you’re ready.” Her mother stated, sighing before standing to walk into her closet to fetch the dresses she purchased for her to wear to different occasions over break. Isobel knew she was spoiled, but her mother took pride in refreshing her closet when she was away, and if she objected she would only be ignored, “Okay, my darling girl black satin or white satin with pearls.”

The emphasis on the last option told her which dress her mother was leaning towards, “Mom, I’m twenty-two I can dress myself.”

“I know you can, but let me have my fun during the holidays, this was my favorite thing to do when you were a little girl.” She gave Isobel the the widest smile, one that she passed down to her, raising the white dress up higher in the air now completely revealing her preference of the two choices.

Isobel playfully rolled her eyes with a sigh before taking the hangers from her hands and slipping in the bathroom to get ready.

Drew’s parents and brother were on the way when he went into one of the guest rooms of what had practically been his second home for the last decade. He packed a suit so he could just get ready and save the hassle of driving to his house and back.

Clad in a casual dinner attire, black slacks and a green button up with no tie, he stepped out of the room he’d spent so many nights in. As soon as the door latched shut his father’s voice could be heard from the formal den where they always had cocktails before dinner, “…everything is set up for him, let’s just hope he doesn’t go back on his word in the next five months.”

He knew his father was talking about him and the job offer that had been waiting for Drew ever since he walked across that stage at his high school graduation. He’d been allowed a grace period before he accepted his fate, in which he tried to find different passions in college but nothing ever stuck—everything led back to Cooper & Starkey Inc. Charles Starkey didn’t like Drew’s hesitation in joining the family business, he’d always made that known, especially in the last four years, and when he wasn’t verbalizing it you could see the disapproval set deep in his eyes. He still had a great relationship with his father, but he hated how the topic of Drew’s future could so easily damper their bond.

“Well isn’t it the man of the hour, Drew.” Richard Cooper’s deep voice barreled through the room, a smile spread across his lips that reminded him of the girl that had been clawing at his mind for the past few weeks.

Drew greeted him with a handshake, to which the massive man yanked his arm and pulled him into a hug. They patted each other on the back as men tended to do, and Drew once again found himself wondering how Richard found himself in finance when he looked like a competing body builder. He’d always reminded him of Mr. Bubbles from Lilo & Stitch, it was his first impression of him that first day he came over to meet with his father to start their company. He always appreciated that Richard never pressured him into making a decision about the job offer, though he wasn’t his father, they were so close that his opinion did mean something. And those days when Charles was coming down on him about procrastinating, Richard simply telling Drew to take his time meant more than he knew.

“How are you, Cooper?” Drew smiled as they pulled away and sighed in amusement when he began dramatically inspecting him for anything out of place as he always did. Richard always thought that Mr. Cooper was too formal for how much time their families spent with each other, so they settled on Drew just calling him Cooper years ago. His eye twitched at the idea of him somehow picking up that he’d been messing around with his daughter just from the simple once over.

“I trust you got Isobel home without any issues.” His father interjected completely killing the moment—just as he was serious about the company he had the same attitude toward’s Richard’s daughter, especially if Drew had anything to do with her. He swiftly stood up from the sofa and walking over towards them with his younger brother Chandler following behind. Charles also looked extremely well for his age, not as built as Cooper but still youthful nonetheless.

Chandler’s eyes brightened at the mentioning of Isobel and it took all of Drew’s restraint not to visibly show his annoyance at how pathetic his little brother’s crush on her was. It started two years ago when he turned sixteen, they were all home for the summer in the back by the family pool when Isobel showed up in a little black bikini that would push him over the edge if he ever saw her in it now. But it was his little brother who’d taken a long, thorough look at Isobel and hadn’t been the same since. Everytime she was around Chandler’s face turned entirely red while his mouth was hindered useless in her presence.

Everyone found his little crush endearing and harmless, she was obviously older so nothing would ever come out of it—and it definitely was not reciprocated on her end. The entire family teased Chandler about it, but now that he was maturing and graduating high school this year Drew hoped his infatuation for her would die down a bit. He found it pathetic to be in a situation where he was jealous of his little brother crushing on the girl he was hooking up with, though the fact that he saw Isobel in a romantic aspect before he ever did was at the very forefront of his mind.

Drew had gotten to her first in a physical way, but actually noticing her for all she was and the little things that really mattered—he’d came up short—and that made him feel like the biggest fool.

“Relax, Charles, she’s upstairs in her room with Lora getting ready.” Cooper cracked a smile at how unnecessarily serious Drew’s father could get. His father just shrugged his shoulder’s as if he were saying ‘can you blame me for asking?’

The boy ignored his old man, taking a sip of his whiskey to simmer the annoyance rumbling in his chest, he knew he could be unreliable, but if there was a thing they could trust him with it was Isobel. “How’s it going, kid?” Drew asked Chandler, who always seemed to be on their dad’s good side.

“Everything’s good, it’ll be even better soon.” He gave Drew a lopsided grin, his eyes stuck on the entrance to the den, obviously anticipating someone’s arrival.

Cooper and his father had broken off into their own conversation near the bar, so Drew decided to mess with Chandler a little before everyone came down, “You know you’re eighteen now, don’t you think it’s about time you stop obsessing over the girl?”

“I actually think the opposite, that just means I’m now man enough to handle a woman that fine.” Chandler finally settled his sole attention on Drew, most likely just interested in the subject of the conversation, “You do know she is a woman right, Drew?”

He knew Chandler wasn’t referring to Isobel’s age, but his obvious blindness towards her. All the time they’d all spent together, and Drew had never shown any attraction towards her. It had never been a thought between the families, no encouragement for the two to date—if anything his father subliminally insisted on the exact opposite.

He was always content with their lack of interest in their relationship, especially with going to a prestigious high school where teenagers were being coerced into modern day arranged relationships like it was a sport. Now thinking back it would’ve felt nice if their family felt he was suited to to take care of Isobel, because the way his head was turning now it would be his absolute honor. Though, he couldn’t blame them for never seeing the stability in a potential relationship between Drew and Isobel. Not once had he shown them an instance where he could be man enough to be a good boyfriend to a woman, let alone to their precious gem. They didn’t deem him worthy of possessing such treasure, as he wasn’t sure he was either.

He’d shown he could protect Isobel but not love her the way she deserved to be loved.

“That girl is so gorgeous, Richard, you and Lora created an angel.” His mother’s velvety voice flowed into the room before he could respond to his brother whose attention was now back on the entrance where Lora and his mom, Catherine stood, “Drew, baby, come give your mommy a hug my little bear.”

Drew immediately walked over despite his head hanging low, ears burning in embarrassment at the nickname she insisted using at all times. He loved her regardless of the various endearments because where his father put fear of him being a disappointment she always made up for, “I missed you Mom.”

The way that his mom loved him made him feel like he was capable of spreading that same feeling to someone else, because if he could love his mom that much he could definitely love another woman just as effortlessly. When they finally pulled apart she grabbed his face in admiration before quickly falling back into conversation with Lora about whatever they’d been doing upstairs with Isobel.

“Get all your compliments out about Isobel before she comes down, you know she hates being the center of attention.” Lora softly smiled, they were both extremely reserved at times, and for a split second Drew saw an uncanny glimpse of Isobel in her. Of course they’d always reminded him of each other but now seeing the similarities left more of meaningful impression.

“I find that extremely ironic seeing as she’s always the last person to be ready.” Cooper’s humor pulled a laugh out of everyone in the room as it always did.

He could put a smile on everyone’s face even when it wasn’t his intent, it made him all the more likable to more than just their family, and Drew wondered if a man like Cooper would approve of him being with his daughter.

“Let’s have another drink before the princess gets her hand’s on the champagne.” Even her parents knew about her tendency to be a lightweight. Isobel had accidentally over served herself, and by over served that just meant having two glasses of champagne one night at a business event their father’s hosted after she turned twenty one. Drew tried to keep her intoxicated state under wraps, but when she got up to go to the restroom and knocked over the welcome sign it was no use. No one took it too seriously if anything it made the night that much more enjoyable, that’s what he enjoyed about his family when they were surrounded by the Cooper’s, everything felt so much lighter.

It was similar to how he felt these past three weeks with Isobel, and it was nothing like he felt before.

“What are you all laughing about?” Isobel suddenly graced the room with effortless strides.

She was wearing a silky black dress that adorned her body in a way that made Drew’s stomach twist in a knot and heart squeeze in his chest. He knew from the sight of the bronze gleam on her naked shoulders that she smelled divine and his nose itched to smell her intoxicating scent. Her hair was pulled from her face, falling behind her back with the tips most likely grazing the top of her backside. He’d noticed that about her the other night at his party, how her hair swayed just above her ass in a tempting gesture as she walked away from him to leave the house and take the girls to the bar.

“Nothing to worry your head about my girl.” Cooper answered as he stared at her with evident pride in his eyes saving her the embarrassment of bringing up her little drunken indiscretion.

It always baffled Drew how Isobel could walk into a room like she didn’t have the ability to steal everyone’s very last breathe from their lungs. Always so coy and oblivious to how much of a force she truly was.

Cooper referred to Drew as the man of the hour, but the only way to appropriately describe Isobel in this moment was as the woman of the entire century.

“I hate to admit it but she’s always had better taste than me.” He heard Lora mumbling to his mother and he smiled knowing they’d been up there trying to dress her up. “Stop that Lora, the white dress will be perfect for the cocktail tomorrow night.” his mom comforted her friend.

He forced himself to look away from Isobel before he did something she would deem obvious to their situation, looking over to see Chandler’s face red with heat as expected, his blue eyes wide with awe, “Think you’ll be able to actually form a sentence for her this time Chan?”

Isobel rushed to to hug everyone, she genuinely missed every person in his room while she was away and the time it took to get through all of them said as much. Chandler cheeks bloomed as he shyly wrapped his arms around her, giving her a simple wave and a quiet ‘hi’ when she pulled away, and she couldn’t help but giggle to herself as she turned towards Charles to greet her second favorite man.

She saved Drew for last and as she approached him bearing a suit on his lean body it dawned on her it probably would’ve of been easier to just get him out of the way first because she knew no matter how short she was in his embrace it would leave lasting effects on her body long after. She moved towards him before she could overthink and draw more attention. She all but tripped into his arms, Drew catching her body so swiftly no one seemed to notice her little stumble.

“Careful there, Is.” Drew whispered while his hands held her waist, but for her that may as well have been a sound bath as the words caused the deepest vibration to rumbled out out of his chest right against hers.

She turned her head and placed her ear on his chest as he squeezed her in a comfortable grip, when she heard the steady pattern of his heart beat she wondered if he could feel her’s erratically beating in her chest. She didn’t relax in his arms, she couldn’t or she would melt. The material of her dress was thin, and right now every part of his body and stitch of his suit felt like it was pressing against the entirety of the front of her. She felt both of their hearts pumping when she heard the intake of breathe from above her head, knowing he was smelling her and as weird as it may seem it only made heat rush down her spine. Her fingers gripped the back of his suit tightly, and just as he she began to melt and Drew started to release a shaky exhale, he stepped away.

She quickly sobered, Drew standing behind her as she turned towards everyone. They had a three second hug filled with what felt like an eternity of emotions, and needed to pretend like it was nothing.

“Would you like anything to drink tonight before we go into the dining room, Honey?” Isobel’s mother asked while walking over to the counter to refresh her drink.

Alcohol would definitely ease her nerves and slow the blood that was rushing to her heart from that hug, but under these circumstances she knew it wasn’t in her best interest. She quickly glanced at Drew who was staring blankly into his glass before she turned back to her mother, “No, I’m not drinking tonight.”

Everyone proceeded to burst into laughter from all around the room and Isobel’s cheeks flushed, now more than aware of what they were talking about before she came into the den, “You guys are annoying.” She groaned before walking out of the room to the dining area, her hair swaying just as he expected.

Drew stood there amused as everyone fell in step behind her, Cooper and Lora apologizing to her with giggles spilling out after each word.

“Drew and I will join everyone shortly, don’t wait up.” His father stated, catching Drew off guard as he twisted to face him with furrowed brows. He really wasn’t in the mood for a ‘talk’ with his father that would ultimately end in both of their moods being ruined.

When he saw the pointed look on his face he relented and walked over to the sofa.

“I’m really proud of you, son.” His father’s words came off as genuine as he topped off Drew’s whiskey. Drew wanted to fully appreciate this moment, but the alcohol signified something was looming.

“Thanks, Dad.” He smiled, the two tilting their glasses as he sat adjacent to him on the feathered filled cushions.

His father sat silently, but his eyes said a thousand things as they studied him. He didn’t want to fidget under his gaze, he just wanted to sit comfortably with his dad without judgement coming from him. Drew hated how he had become used to their conversations turning sour to the point where he was bracing himself for it.

Cooper’s hearty laughter bellowed into the room from the dining area and as if on cue his father spoke, “I really am pleased that you accepted the job offer, all I ever wanted was for you to be apart of the company with us.”

In all honesty Drew had done everything he could to avoid working in the family industry. Looking back he wasn’t so sure why he’d been so adverse to the idea. It could’ve been the silver spoon he had in his mouth since he was a young boy or he could attribute it all to just plain boyish immaturity. But now with graduation a semester away it seemed like the only thing that made sense in this impending period of change. It was the same calming feeling he got the first time he kissed Isobel, as soon as he did it the feeling of facing the effects of their actions the next day didn’t scare him.

And now that two weeks had passed each intimate moment between them made him a little bit more accepting of the future.

“Yeah, it felt nice to take that next step, I’m looking forward to it.” He truthfully spoke, though he could relate his sentiments to more than just the job. As messy as getting involved with Isobel was he would never go back, it was a risk he was willing to take. He went with a curious feeling in his gut, and the more that feeling developed the more it felt like a sure thing.

Charles pulled him into a hug and in this moment Drew felt fulfilled, for once he felt like he’d made the right choice. Although, his father words from earlier rang in his ears.

Let’s just hope he doesn’t go back on his word in the next five months.

Then suddenly Isobel’s giggle flowing in the air as it traveled down the hall pulled him out of his thoughts before he spiraled in a fit of self doubt. He needed to exceed his father’s expectations but on his own terms because at the end of the day it was what Drew wanted that mattered.

“I hope nothing is happening that will jeopardize your transition to C&S, Drew.” Charles expressed after pulling away, a layer of animosity stitched within his tone.

Drew knew better than to react, he needed to tread lightly because he knew how his father moved when he was trying to get information out of him. He didn’t know exactly what he was getting at, but he didn’t want to give anything away before he could find out, “Dad I’m committed to the company you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Good because otherwise I’d advise you to end whatever could affect that.” He spoke hypothetically, but the the look in his eyes held exactly what Isobel was trying to avoid. She would have a freak out if she knew this conversation was going on. Or was he just being paranoid? “I’m positive it won’t come to that.” Drew reassured him then knocked back the rest of his drink, making the lie all the more bitter on his tongue.

Charles got up with a laugh and glanced at Drew, shaking his head in amusement at whatever was going on in that wandering mind of his, “You’re really quick with your hands you know, but that’s what I should expect after all those years of baseball right?”

His father again chuckled to himself at his own words. Drew had felt a a number of things during that short hug with Isobel, and he was sure she did too—like a mutual feeling between the two that they kept to themselves. Though it only took Isobel’s tiny stumble and him catching her to raise his father’s suspicions.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

PART EIGHT

148 notes · View notes

dailycass-cain · 6 months

Text

My 10 Favorite Batgirls covers

You know something we never talk about much is some of the stunning covers Batgirls had (would you believe the series had over seventy-two different covers for a nineteen-issue run + Annual).

That's-- A LOT.

What happens when you get regular and virgin #1 covers that were available in other shops. Now these are my own preferences. I mean, to say the least, Batgirls covers never missed really. These are just my favs.

So are ten of my favorites plus a few honorable mentions.

Honorable Mention #1:

Batgirls #16 International Women's Day Variant by Lynne Yoshi. I just love the way everyone is framed in this with Babs being "the Batgirl" but in a past B&W motif while Cass/Steph are the present Batgirls being juxtaposed in color.

Honorable Mention #2:

Batgirls #12 90s variant by Paulina Ganucheau. I love the homage here the splashy page homage with a nice role reversal with Cass subbing for Tim here. My favorite Steph-centric cover.

#10

Batgirls #13 1:25 variant by Rian Gonzales. Her final one for the series, and man did she go out with a banger. Love the Powerpuff Girls homage with most of the supporting cast (Kyle, Maps, and Alyssa) with random Kon and Kate appearances.

Batgirls #3 variant by Kim Jacinto. Jacinto would do a few variants for the series too, and this is my favorite one of them. Love that each had a fluidity with them but that up-close claw of Cass coming at ya is why this one is my favorite of Jacinto's Batgirls covers.

Batgirls #1 the Glass Cabinet Hobbies variant by Dan Mora. This is one of those "store" exclusive variants, and probably my favorite Batgirls cover Mora did on the series.

I love the poses Cass/Steph have here, along with Bab's silhouette. I just LOVE the yellow dips down and to the right even making a rather striking cover. If anything negative I wish Babs was bigger and Dick was taken out of this cover altogether. Still love Bruce on the right though.

#7 Batgirls #1 (though I forget which store had this exclusive) variant by Babs Tarr. If there's one thing I do enjoy about Burnside Batgirl it is the way Tarr drew Steph in it. Just captured that fun attitude perfectly. Also, love the first "official" drawing of her Cass.

I also love the homage to a famous Batman cover but the personalities of each Batgirl stand out in this one. Plus the pink just makes this one stand out and be so striking.

Batgirls #14 variant 1:25 cover by Dan Hipp. Again, the pink is a nice striking contrast but Hipp one-ups it with the little details sprinkled throughout this cover. The easter eggs sprinkled in are PERFECTION here. Probably the best "layered" cover with so much behind it.

#5 Batgirls #18 AAPI variant cover by Crystal Kung. The second of the two AAPI covers Cass got in the series, I love the colors in this one along with the pose Kung gives Cass here. There's that gremlin nature of Cass I love here.

Along with just the wash the background gets further back. I also love the secondary color Kung gives Cass's cape to make it stand out more.

#4 Batgirls #17 cover by Jorge Corona. My favorite cover of the series with all three Batgirls in them. I love how Corona gets the personalities of the three in here while also the starry background along with the Clocktower. Sooo good.

Batgirls #6 1:25 variant by Rian Gonzales. My favorite Gonzales cover of the series. I love the watercolors Gonzales does the most here. Just the wash of Gotham City in the background with Cass/Steph lying in the pool. Also Haley on the little batmobile float. SOOOOOOO CUTE!!!

Batgirls #14 cover by Jorge Corona. The best issue of the entire series and the peak for me of Corona as well with his covers.

Just the somber mood of the cover sets the tone alone. I also LOVE the way Corona has Cass and Steph's capes here. The way each pop sells it all.

So if that's my #2, what can be my #1?

Well... something that just uplifts me anytime I look at it. Something you'd probably not truly expect.

Batgirls #6 AAPI Heritage Month variant by Audrey Mok. There's just something every time that I look at this cover that fills me with a warm glee.

I adore Mok's use of Cass here and the way the traffic around her lights a part of her up. I adore the pose as well that mid-grapple swing too.

I love the "mini story" this one tells too. Just everything about this cover is perfection to me.

So there are my favorite Batgirls covers. This was tough! 😅What are your favorite Batgirls covers? Please share and comment on which ones are yours, or if you share the same as I do!

#dc comics #batgirls #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #barbara gordon

100 notes · View notes

heartsofbeskar · 1 year

Text

the red wolf

mockingbird

oberyn martell x named fem!reader

warnings — language, sexual content, 18+ only

words — 3.8K

a/n: yall remember this?? yes??? i hope so!!

series masterlist — writing masterlist

prev — next

“I am going to be most blunt with you, Lady Stark. Have you and the Prince been intimate?”

The entire room seemed to still; the inhale of a fire breathing dragon moments before it expelled its deadly barrage of heat and destruction. They waited.

Count one.

Count two.

An exhale.

The steady thrum of your own heartbeat in your ears.

“Lord Tywin, I—” A glance spared to Oberyn. He sat, impassive, as if he were a portrait that had been painted long ago, left in place of the man of flesh and blood. “No! No, of course not, I am— I would never—”

An unexpected reprieve came in the form of Mace Tyrell. His face was blotchy red, as if an inexperienced young girl had applied rouge at random to his uneven skin.

“Is it really appropriate, my Lord, to so publicly question something so sacred as the young girl’s virtue—”

“It is no more or less appropriate than the murder of my grandson on his own wedding day!” Tywin’s voice was raised with what an onlooker may have described as unrestrained anger — but it was measured, carefully meted out, as all the words that had come before.

Your hands shook where they were clenched together under the rim of the dias— they may as well have been chained as Tyrion’s were. The smaller man looked at you now, and it felt like the weight of a great boulder crushed into your chest as you realized there was pity in his eyes. You didn’t want it, and it soured in your stomach the longer you felt it — as if it would rot you from the inside out, the contents of your soul spilling out for all to see.

Finally, Oberyn spoke. The tone of his voice was casual, but you could hear the underlying strain, that sense of unease that crept into it like a viper slithering through the bed of a garden.

“Forgive me — I fail to see the relevance of my relationship with the Lady Stark to your son’s trial.” He gestured with one ring-covered hand at the older man adjacent to him. “A relationship which, I assure you, is most platonic in nature. We have both known the great depths of grief and it is a comfort to speak about it with someone who understands such things.”

The crowd was uncharacteristically silent as the two men held each other’s gaze, elevated upon the judge’s platform, on full display. Their facades seemed to be stripping away, layer by convoluted layer, hurtling towards the exposure of the raw core that lay underneath this entire charade.

They ordered the butchery of my sister, and her infant children.

Oberyn’s words — it seemed like so many lifetimes ago that the two of you had sat in the shared sanctity of that abandoned section of the gardens — echoed through your head, forming a haunting rhythm that beat against the inside of your skull, and your muscles throbbed with the intensity.

He seemed larger now, a hulking dragon that Tywin was all too eager to attempt to slay, as he had slain a entire house of dragons in the years before. The latter’s eyes shone with the potential blood that could be spilled over the dark stone floor. His brow twitched up his forehead by a hair's breadth.

Oberyn seemed to speak without need to open his mouth. Go ahead, old man. I have no fear of the true heart of this matter. Do you?

For a moment, a dizzying beat of time, you thought Tywin Lannister would rise to the silent taunt, that his cold demeanour would crumble and crack and scatter debris about King’s Landing.

He drew in a slow breath, and he lowered.

“Very well.” His tone was jovial, but a hand remained closed in a tight fist at his side. “I only feared, Prince Oberyn, that the young Lady Stark presumed to use you for your vast knowledge on bodily poisons to better inform a plot to kill the King … since he was poisoned.”

The blood continued to rush through your ears, a steady charge that echoed the days you spent in the woods of Winterfell. It was the streams in high summer, which would flow with the same ferocity and vigour towards lower ground, a race they did not even know they had entered into against nature itself. You went there now, eyes squeezing shut with a pressure almost painful.

Your feet would sit in the running water, the bottom of your skirts tinted dark where they had been splashed upon, the breeze kissing along the bare skin of your ankles. The image of your toes was rippled by the waves distorting their shapes and colours where they were submerged. Rays of sun would glint off the surface of the stream. You would stare up through the canopy of trees, hints of the sky beyond breaking through the thick overlay of their leaves, blue and bright as you’d always imagined the Summer Isles to be. Some days, you would lay on the gentle forest floor, the soft moss and mud providing a welcome respite from long afternoons in lessons with your young sisters.

Oberyn’s voice, warmth and honey, pulled you back, to your feet solid on the wooden dais, your breath sharp where it sat in your throat. It had been pulling you back for some time now.

“I am glad we were able to assuage your fears, my Lord.” He leaned back in the grand wood chair. You noticed, for the first time, the ornate carvings that adorned its edges, the grandeur of design in all the judges’ seats. It sat in stark contrast to the dirt and hatred of the accusations thrown across the room all day. “I hope you can rest in the knowledge that Lady Stark is as innocent in these matters as you are in them.”

You did not miss the double meaning to Oberyn’s words — and you knew Tywin did not either. They held gazes for another long moment.

“You are dismissed, Lady Stark,” he finally spoke. His voice was low, a lion crouched in the grass, prey helpless in its sights as he decided whether he should let it live or snap its neck. “I have no more questions for you.”

Numbness washed through you as you stood, and followed you as you approached the bench — Lord Varys looking on you with another set of sympathetic eyes you didn’t want — and you passed it entirely, the Gods themselves guiding your feet to take you out, out, out, until the warm air mercifully kissed your skin, and you swallowed it down in great volumes, though the sanded path before you swam in your vision.

The bushes lining the path swam, too, as you retched into them.

—

The stillness of your room unnerved you as you sat, sat and waited for a fate that wasn’t even yours, but felt heavy on you all the same. It was Tyrion Lannister who would lose his head if he was found guilty. Tyrion Lannister who would stare down the execution block, stained with the blood of all those who came before, including that of your own father. Tyrion Lannister who would be sentenced to death at the hands of his own family.

So why did it feel as if his fate would become your own?

You waited so long that the sun began its descent through the sky, cutting through clouds and painting them hues of violet and orange. Children who had played among the bushes, ducking and weaving as they exchanged the role of seeker and sought out their companion, were called in for their evening meal, the sound of their light footsteps fading as they rushed towards home. And you waited. For someone, anyone, to enter through the door and give you news that you weren’t even sure you wanted to hear.

Relief was a sweet drug in your veins when it was Oberyn.

Unabashed, uncaring how it appeared, you rushed to him, wrapping him in an embrace the moment the door closed securely behind him. You knew him — trusted him — to be clever enough to make his way here unnoticed.

You clung to him, hands fisted in the back of his robe, as if he were an anchor and you were in a storm at sea. One of his hands cupped the back of your head, warmth emanating from the point of contact.

“He’s demanded a trial by combat,” he said softly. His breath fanned over your hair. You pulled back, just an inch, to tilt your face toward his. You couldn’t read the expression in his dark eyes. “Tyrion. He knew men would never grant him a fair trial … but the Gods may.”

Your hands tightened in the fabric. You had never known the Gods to be so kind as to bestow proper justice.

“It is an ordeal for another day,” Oberyn murmured. He searched your face, pouring an intensity into you that made your head spin. “You must trust me. Do you?”

“You know that I do,” you breathed. You watched his throat bob, brows drawn together tightly.

As his hand descended down your back, the thumb making a soothing motion against the material of your bodice, you felt a weight drop through your chest, and you surged forward.

Your lips against his felt like coming home. His hand in your hair tightened, and he took half a step back in surprise before pressing back with just as much strength, moulding his mouth to yours in a comfortable and familiar pattern. They played well together, your mouth and his, and for the first time you admitted to yourself it was a game you never wanted to end.

It could have been a moment or it could have been a lifetime before you broke off from him, heavy breaths intermingling in the spare inch of space between your lips. Words seemed impossible to form, your mind filled with sweet syrup that dripped through your body where it pressed against his. You tugged, insistent, on the edges of his jacket, knuckles brushing against bare his skin underneath.

His free hand, warm and strong, came to rest on your waist and put pressure there, and for a terrifying moment you thought he meant to push you away. But then he followed your backwards movement easily, not giving room for any additional air between your bodies, and relief was a palpable taste in your mouth. He wanted this too.

You cupped your hands over his jaw, thumbs tracing along the hair styled there. It was longer than you were used to seeing on him, it’s shape less clean cut and more unruly, indicating that he had not shaved for several days now. Your mouth followed the path of your hands, descending from the sharpness of his jawbone to the smooth column of his neck. He tasted of the golden rays of the sun, of the steady richness of the earth beneath your feet. His skin underneath your mouth was the ground, and you floated down from the stars to meet it.

At your ministrations, he groaned, the sound vibrating out from his throat into your very bones, settling there. His thumb rubbed circles on your hip, the fabric just barely starting to bunch there.

“Raya…” he rumbled. “Little wolf.” You preened at both of your names from his lush mouth, pressing a hand to his arm and squeezing. “You must stop this before we go some place you cannot come back from.”

You pulled back, further this time, your eyes meeting his. They seemed to pass an infinite set of words between them before you could form any from your lips instead.

“I wish to go there, Oberyn,” you breathed. Even in the silence of the room, it was a strain to hear your own voice. “They all believe it anyway. Let me … please, I—“

His brow furrowed, his forehead coming to rest against yours. “This is not a kiss, little wolf.”

“I know.” Your voice came sharped this time, honed by the blade of frustration and the dissolution of hope. “They have taken … everything from me. My home, my family, my future.” You choked on the words as they clawed their way through your throat, leaving wounds over the scars that had existed there. “I want this and I want … I want to know someone who is kind and gentle. I want that, and I want it to be you. Please. Do not condemn me to a life without it.”

His eyes seemed to soften, and you closed yours as a familiar burn built within them. You felt a hand — so soft you could almost believe it was the wind — brush back the hair that had fallen into your face.

“Then it would be my honour.”

Before your eyes could open again, his lips were on yours once more, this time with a softness that threatened to melt your body from the inside. A single tear slipped free from its reins, spilling over your skin, leaving a hot trail behind. Oberyn wiped it away with a slow stroke of his thumb. He began to walk, urging you backwards, your steps clumsy but unhurried as he continued his attentions upon your mouth.

You were feeling dizzy with it by the time your legs made contact with the bed behind you. With a sharp inhale, you broke off the kiss, your eyes blinking rapidly to adjust. His hands wasted not a single moment, moving down — your neck, your arms, circling your waist before settling behind you, where he deftly began to unstring the intricate laces of your bodice. You mentally cursed your own dressing decisions from that morning, but he seemed not to struggle, the fabric falling away from your body as it was an enemy he’d cut down on the field of battle without a second thought. The cool air rising from the bay kissed the bare skin of your shoulders, your back, you legs, as the dress pooled ever downwards, leaving you only in your light shift beneath.

A shiver crawled up your spine. Upon seeing it, Oberyn brushed a gentle hand down the bones.

“Will it hurt?” you murmured. Your mother and Old Nan had imbued you with stories of the loss of maidenhood, a woman’s first battle, where she would adorn the sheets with blood not so dissimilar to her own flowering.

He pushed you back further still, leaving you no choice but to climb onto the mattress behind you, gooseflesh rising where your bare skin met the silks of the bedding. The pillows gave way beneath you, a soft space to land as he hovered above you. Oberyn lowered his face into the crook of your neck, his breath pooling there.

“No, my little wolf,” he whispered into your skin. “It will, most assuredly, not hurt.”

Despite his words, you struggled to believe him, and you couldn’t help but feel your muscles tense slightly as his hand crept lower, running along your stomach, still covered by your shift, until he reached the tops of your thighs. His fingers played along the skin there, testing, as he propped himself up on his other elbow. His jacket had fallen open fully, exposing his chest underneath. It was smooth, golden, radiating a warmth that compensated for any chill entering the room from the open window.

His eyes poured into you as his hand slowly ran along the edge of your smallclothes, seeking permission at every step. You brought a hand up to the back of his head, running it through the close cropped but soft hair. You nodded almost imperceptibly, but he saw.

Drawing the last of your clothing down, pushing your shift up around your stomach, Oberyn touched you with reverence you had never imagined possible as he approached the place which no man had ever seen. You spared only a moment’s thought to the belief you’d had, once, that your husband would have been the first and only one to know you this way. He was faceless, nameless, some lord or knight whose face was soft and manner was kindly. Not yours to chose, but yours alone to have.

Oberyn was none of those things, but he was the one you wanted regardless.

Never breaking eye contact, his hand grazed along the apex of your thighs, light at first but increasing in pressure as you didn’t push it away. Your breath was caught in your throat, at first solely because it was cold — not because of the temperature of his skin but because of the sheer heat coming off of you in waves. You could feel it burn along the skin of your inner thighs. His hand was ice in comparison.

He continued to increase the pressure of his fingers on you, harder and harder still, but gently stroking all the while, and something began to build. You gasped into his mouth, hovering now above yours, eyes shutting unbidden against the sensation you struggled to make sense of for the first time in your life. His hand now worked masterfully on the very core of you, the blazing embers of a fire you had never imagined you possessed.

Time seemed to slow to a syrupy crawl under his ministrations, and you began to feel suspended from it entirely. All that was, all that had ever existed, was the two of you in this bed, his hands on you, and yours on him where you grasped the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin whilst the pleasure built under yours.

“Howl for me, little wolf.” Oberyn’s voice was light and breathy, and his mouth descended onto your neck as his own body moved in rhythm with yours. You felt the hardness of him against your thigh, thinly veiled by the linen pants he still wore. You tried your best to oblige him, but all that passed your lips was an equally breathy moan. He laughed, not unkindly. The flow of it over your skin only heightened what you were feeling. “I suppose that’s close enough.”

You could not help but to laugh in return, but it was soon cut off by a gasp as he pressed one strong finger inside of you.

It was fast becoming too much for you to bear, and you buried your face into the side of Oberyn’s, legs tightening of their own will around his forearm. He placed soft kisses onto the column of your throat, as if in encouragement. His finger crooked just so, his thumb pressing in succession, his lips searing hot against your skin, and the waves crashed upon the beach inside of you, your whole body tensing with an exquisite ache.

“You are beautiful,” Oberyn said. His eyes saw into your soul, into the essence of your being, and were full of nothing but admiration as he looked upon you. Gaze never straying from yours, he shifted, and with a few slow strokes pulled his hand away.

He admired the remnants you’d left on his fingers, before bringing them back down to tend to his own garments. In a blur his pants were discarded, and you heard the soft sound of them landing somewhere undetermined on the stone floor. He came to settle between your legs, and you secured him there with your limbs in turn, but still — he hesitated.

You drew a hand along his jaw, cupping it in your palm, thumb gently tracing over his cheek. It felt as if your life hinged on this moment. All of the things your family had imagined for you fell to one side, with all that you wanted falling to the other. And, for once, you had a choice to tip the balance. With just three words, you did.

“I want this.”

It seemed that Oberyn needed not a word more. His mouth descended on yours, a kiss so reminiscent of the first one shared between you as he entered you. Instinctively your hands came up grasp his arms to either side of you as you processed the barrage of feelings coming over you.

As he continued to move within you — to make love to you, to take you, to fuck you — your mind spun. You could not believe that this was the woman’s duty as so many had spoken of it to you, from the time you were a young girl not yet flowered. A service to one’s husband, they had said. A responsibility most serious, to provide men with heirs at their behest.

But this… this was no duty, no sacrifice, no service you were to perform. This surely must be something different entirely, something sweeter than summerwine and immensely more intoxicating. With every movement of Oberyn’s hips, pleasure rippled through you, building impossibly high and crashing through every inch of your skin. You were on fire, you were submerged in ice. You were alive and you were dead. You were everywhere and you were nowhere, all in the same moment in time.

One of his hands explored your body at will, grazing against a breast, still hidden by the thin fabric of your shift, his thumb tracing around where you could see one nipple peaking a tent through it. Continuing its path, his hand descended between your thighs again, and this time you let out a stream of moans as the feelings layered within you, pooling in your centre.

“Oberyn. Oberyn.” Your voice came out as a whimper, saying his name like a prayer. He groaned, a long and low sound in the back of his throat, and his hips stuttered in their rhythm. Warmth grew within you, emanating from the point you were connected, settling in your limbs. His hand redoubled its efforts, and you followed him back into the waves, where they once again washed over your head, pulling you underneath to drown in the waters.

Moments later — you could not say how many or how you got there — he cradled you into his warm chest, his hand stroking along the bare skin of your upper back. You let yourself settle against him, your mind finally wiped free of kings and lords and wars and trials. It was only the two of you, and this room, and this bed. He had you, body and soul, and you him. And since the moment you’d left Winterfell, this felt like the only correct turn you’d been able to make.

You drew back for a moment to admire the planes of his face before pressing up with a gentle kiss against his lips, which were full with colour and swollen. You did not want to imagine what yours looked like.

“Raya,” he murmured against your lips. You smiled, only for a moment until the next words escaped him. “I’m going to volunteer as Tyrion’s champion.”

——

oh hello! im not sure if.. anyone still wants to be tagged in this but ill do everyone i tagged last chapter and if you dont want that lmk!

@radiowallet @pedros-mustache @magpie-to-the-morning @heavenseed76 @dazedrhapsody @highsviolets @sherala007 @adancedivasmom @skeletoncowboys @xsadderdazeforeverx @iamskyereads @mswarriorbabe80 @prettylilhalforc @elinedjarin @spoopyredacted @frannyzooey @fan-of-encouragement @djarinsbeskar @fucktheforce @leannawithacapitala @starla1979

love u all mwuah

#game of thrones fanfic #oberyn martell x original character #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell #game of thrones #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #mywriting

224 notes · View notes